


Begin Again

by xCara



Category: Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Friendship/Love, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCara/pseuds/xCara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven months after their divorce, Addison and Derek cross paths at a medical conference in Los Angeles. What happens when they maintain contact after Derek returns to Seattle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where We are Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I initially posted this story on ff.net, but I figured it would also be a good idea to put it here.
> 
> I'm basically using this story to practice writing so I'm probably going to be switching between first person and third person occasionally, and I will shift tense and point of view frequently.

Why does time always seem to flow at breakneck speed during the pleasant parts of our lives, but as soon as we're in a state of distress the stream feels endless?

It's been six months. Six months since I've been divorced, and the sense of finality I expected there to be is still absent. I've been part of a pair for eleven years—no, more than eleven years. I would be hopelessly in denial if I said that the adjustment – living in a new city, being surrounded by new people, re-establishing my life as an individual – has been easy. Some days, (as ridiculous as this may sound) it feels like I'm walking around with one Louboutin on. It's uncomfortable and awkward, foreign and disorienting. I suppose its fine to not be completely okay, right?

In defiance of the qualms I had about transitioning _again_ , I consider moving to L.A one of the best decisions I've made in an expansive amount of time. Being able to essentially start over has been restorative, even though it entailed the constant hovering of Nae and Sam.

Speaking of Naomi, I got asked on a date by the brother of one of her patients. He asked me to dinner, and I – in a cliché attempt to postpone my response – told him I would get back to him after I checked my schedule. Honestly, the notion of dating is intimidating. I don't remember what it's like to date anyone who is not...

Anyway, I'll try to put my anxieties to rest for now, Mrs. Reynolds is waiting for me.

* * *

"Ms. Wells your surgery is scheduled for 10 am, so I'll see you tomorrow. Try to get some rest." said Derek as he gave her an encouraging smile. Ms. Wells required a spinal fusion, and she was understandably quite nervous about the surgery despite Derek's continuous reassurance.

"Thank you, Dr. Shepherd." She replied shyly, skating her hand across the white sheet on her hospital bed.

Derek exited her room and headed towards the nurses' station.

"Derek!" Mark called out, jogging in his direction.

Slightly peeved; Derek set his charts on the desk in front of him, turned to face Mark and waited for him to speak.

"I'm headed to Joe's, wanna join me?"

"Sure, I'll uh, meet you there when I'm finished with these." He responded hesitantly, motioning toward the charts.

"Okay, don't stand me up." Mark stated with a slight grin. He then turned and headed down the hall with a spring in his step.

Derek promptly headed to the attending's lounge upon completion of his charts. He stretched out on the brown, leather couch in the corner of the room and revelled in the comfort of being alone. To say that he had had a long day would be an understatement. He had spent twelve hours in surgery that afternoon, he had been the attending on-call the previous night and, much to his dismay, he had received successive phone calls from his mother and three of his sisters.

Carolyn had informed him that she simply wanted to check on him to make sure he was okay. Initially, Derek had thought nothing of it, but when Nancy, Kathleen and Lizzie called as the day went on, he had figured there had to be a definitive reason. After much convincing, he had gotten Nancy to tell him why they had decided to ambush him with phone calls.

According to Nancy, 'Mark told mom that you've been kind of _withdrawn_ lately. We just wanted to make sure you were okay, Derek.' Derek had reassured her that he was fine; he was dating Rose, and he regularly socialized with people at the hospital.

However, that was only partially true. He had been frequently cancelling dates with Rose, and he had been communicating with people at the hospital only if he had deemed it necessary. So yes, he had been a bit isolated. Over the past few weeks, he had been spending most of his time pensively inside his trailer or an on-call room trying to shed light on his vast array of feelings.

After a few minutes elapsed, Derek left the lounge and headed to Joe's to meet Mark. Frankly, he had only agreed to go because he had figured showing up would convince Mark that he was okay, and Mark would most likely report back to Carolyn.

He entered Joe's and found Mark at the counter staring at a blonde sat at a table in the back of the crowded bar. Derek sat on the stool beside him and ordered a drink. The blaring music and chattering of other customers were the only sounds between them. They sat in silence, sipping scotch for what seemed like hours before Mark finally gave in. He turned to face Derek, cleared his throat then spoke.

"You see that blonde over there?" He signalled with his eyes, and Derek followed his gaze.

"I know you've had your eyes on me all night, but she's the one I plan to take home." Derek just stared at him blankly, clearly unamused.

"Oh come on Derek! You usually laugh when I say something like that. What's your problem?"

Derek hesitated for a moment before he spoke, unfortunately, conversation with Mark did not come as easy as it used to.

"It's nothing, really..." He responded.

"Sure doesn't sound that way." Mark grumbled.

Derek returned to aimlessly swirling around the amber liquid inside the glass within his hand.

Mark, never one to give up easily, continued:

"Is it the woman with the tumour? Everyone's going on and on about it at the hospital. Apparently, that thing's huge, and according to Burman, it's inoperable."

"Difficult, yes. Inoperable, no. I have a plan. Actually, I intend to schedule the operation soon."

Mark nodded his head attentively before making another guess.

"Is it the Chief? 'cause Webber's been all over my ass lately. This whole 'Seattle Grace Ranking' thing really has him on edge, he's been demanding the impossible from all of us."

"Mark, it's not Webber. I told you I'm fine, so stop guessing." Derek responded, evidently annoyed.

Inclined to dig deeper, Mark went on. "Well, would this; this being whatever the hell is going on with you, have anything to do with Addison?"

Derek's head shot up.  
"What? No!" He hissed.

"Really?" Mark scoffed. "Because yesterday I saw when you—"

"Mark." Derek warned. The last thing he wanted was Mark of all people involved in his affairs, especially anything about or related to his ex-wife.

"You know what, fine. Deal with whatever _it_ is on your own." With those words, Mark stood up, patted Derek on the shoulder and made his way to the back of the bar. He approached the blonde, flashed her his signature smile and whispered a few charming words in her ear. He glanced back at Derek from across the noisy bar and yelled, "I'll see you tomorrow, don't stay here too long" before leaving Joe's with his latest fling.

Derek folded his arms on the bar counter then placed his head in the space between them, seemingly in for a much more complicated night than he had proposed.

* * *

Addison stood in front of her closet staring at the myriad of clothing sprawled about. She had agreed to go on a date with Matthew, which was what landed her in that predicament. She had spent over an hour rummaging through her wardrobe unsure of what she was looking for. Presumably, Prada, Gucci or Dolce were not in agreement with her that night.

So, seeking an excuse to do anything but the task at hand, Addison abandoned her search and called Naomi.

"Nae." She huffed.

"Yeah?"

"I think I should cancel my date tonight."

Naomi sighed. "What excuse did you come up with this time?"

"I don't have anything to wear." Addison replied pointedly.

"I don't have anything to wear." Naomi repeated mockingly. "The last three excuses you came up with were way better than that."

Yes the excuses were not few or far behind, but it's not that she didn't _want_ to go, she certainly would not have agreed if that was the case. It was...well, there's a lot to be said about courtship, especially after being married for several years.

It makes you feel superficial...

Sometimes you have to put in a lot of effort for very little reward...

Not to mention the anxiety that accompanies the mere prospect of opening up yourself to someone else...

Her call proceeded with Naomi saying something along the lines of:

"Addie...I get it...you're nervous." and "You're worried because this is the first time in _years_ that you're going on a date with someone that's not Derek." And of course Nae, being Nae, pumped her full of words of encouragement and proposed a glass of wine before she left.

She hung up the phone and sauntered back into the small house she considered a closet. After locating the silky, V-cut dress that Naomi had suggested, she made her way to the bathroom where she styled her short red locks and meticulously applied make-up.

 _Breathe. Relax. Act normal...whatever that is._ __  
  
Addison had spent more than ten minutes practicing her smile and laugh and scrutinizing her perfectly coiffed hair.

Taking on a now or never approach, she shimmied into her dress and slipped on her black suede Jimmy Choo pumps. After giving herself a final once-over, she exited her beach house and headed to the restaurant.


	2. The Brighter Side of Life

_Get out of the car, Addison. Move your feet and get your ass in that restaurant._

Addison had been sitting in her car in the parking lot of Spago for the past ten minutes trying to convince herself to go inside. She watched as people happily shuffled in and out with giddy smiles on their faces and she couldn't help wondering if that would be her.

Finally convincing her legs to move, she exited her car and walked into the restaurant.

"Good evening," Addison greeted the hostess: a short brunette named Bridgette, according to her name tag. "I have an 8 o'clock reservation, the name is Nichols."

Bridgette searched for the reservation, then cheerfully replied, "I'll lead you to your table', ma'am."

Addison's heart rate began to increase when she spotted Matthew Nichols sitting at a table in the middle of the restaurant. She straightened her posture and mustered her best smile before saying, 'Matthew.' Inopportunely, it came out significantly more high-pitched than she had intended.

The fact that she was awfully nervous made it hard to focus, but she was sure she heard him say something about her looking beautiful, so she replied with a small 'thank you' as Matthew made his way around the table to pull out her chair.

Matthew was quite handsome—this, Addison could not deny. She stared subtly at him, taking in all of his features, from his sharp jaw and chiselled cheeks, to his lustrous, thick black hair which accentuated his cool grey eyes.

The waiter came over and asked if they were ready to order drinks; Matthew answered readily, "We'll have a jeroboam of a '71 Penfolds Grange Hermitage, double decanted please."

"Is that okay with you, Addison?" He asked, looking at her with a smile on his face.

"Yes, it's fine." She responded. _The man sure knows his wine._

At first they made small talk; inquiring about each other's day, then Addison told Matthew about herself and he did the same in return.

He had moved from Santa Barbara eight years ago to start a practice with one of his friends from law school. His mother had died from breast cancer when he was seventeen, and his father had remained in their family home in Santa Barbara.

"It was really difficult during the first few years, but my father was always there for me, we got through it together." Matthew stated in reference to his mother's death. "She's the reason I decided to practice law. She was a Civil Rights Attorney, and I've always admired her."

Addison listened intently as he told her stories of his childhood, and he even made her laugh with a joke he told about one of his clients.

They divided their attention between eating dinner and conversation. Both parties ordered the same dish—pan-roasted Venison with Creamy Baked Potato and Celeriac. Somewhere between bites of food and anecdotes, Matthew had suggested that Addison call him Matt.

When the waiter brought the bill, Matthew took out his credit card to pay. Addison protested, but Matthew insisted. In the end, she acquiesced.

Matthew stood up and held out his hand for Addison to hold, she accepted it and they left the restaurant and walked to her car.

"I had a great time tonight, Addison." Matthew stated sincerely.

"I did too." She responded with a smile.

"I really enjoyed your company, can we do this again soon?" He continued while smiling.

Addison responded affirmatively, and Matthew said that he would call her so that they could arrange something. Matthew opened her car door then lightly kissed her cheek before she stepped in. They exchanged 'goodnights' and Addison drove home with a broad smile on her face and a renewed sense of optimism because truthfully, she had been more than prepared for her night to end disastrously.

* * *

It was an oddly sunny day in Seattle, considering the previous day had been filled with intermittent rainstorms. The sky resembled beautiful silk ribbons; each a different shade of brilliant blue. The puffy, white clouds danced through the sky as they dispersed then re-joined. The air was hot and still with the exception of an occasional cool breeze.

Derek Shepherd was sat on the porch of his trailer observing a battle between two dragonflies. He had reasoned that some fresh air and solitude may help him clear his mind, for he had spent the previous day mulling endlessly about the current circumstances of his life.

He stood up and leaned his body back while stretching and sporadically moved his head in a circular motion. He then inhaled and exhaled deeply, returned to his sitting position, closed his eyes, and gave is mind freedom to travel.

" _Addison hurry up!" Derek shouted while glancing at his watch._

" _Derek! Why did you agree to go to this thing?" Addison asked, poking her head out of the bathroom door so that she could look at her husband._

" _He invited us, and I thought you'd like it." He replied with a shrug while raking his fingers through his thick head of hair._

_Dr. Barnes, Derek and Addison's colleague, had invited them to his wife's art exhibition at Martos Gallery, and for some insane reason, Derek had told him that they would be there._

" _Derek! Did you forget that Bizzy is my mother?" Addison exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at him._

_Derek tried to stifle his laughter, clearly amused by his wife and her flair for the dramatic._

" _I spent most of my childhood at exhibitions and grand openings; I know what it's like to stare at walls all day Derek: It's not fun! Are you trying to torture me? Is that why you're taking me to stare at walls?" She quipped as she exited the bathroom and stood in front of him with her arms folded across her chest, awaiting a response._

" _Addie, it won't be that bad." He stated with a lopsided grin. "Besides, you have me to keep you entertained."_

" _You know you're gonna have to make it up to me, right? That's_ if _I make it out of this thing alive." She said while pouting her lips._

 _"Addie,_ _stop exaggerating," Derek said while brushing his hand across her cheek. "And I promise I'll make it up to you." He then tilted her head up and placed a soft kiss on her lips._

_xxx_

_They walked around the gallery taking in the various pieces of art that were displayed on walls and tables. Addison departed from Derek and spoke casually with a few people and occasionally scrunched up her face at a few paintings she found absurd._

" _I like this one." Derek stated, walking up behind his wife and wrapping an arm around her waist._

" _It looks like something exploded." Addison replied dryly, her eyes still fixated on the painting._

" _What about this one?" Derek asked, turning her around and pointing to a sculpture composed of wood with metal sticking out at odd angles._

" _Breath-taking, reminds me of you." She responded sarcastically._

" _Come on." Derek said, taking her arm and guiding them towards the exit._

" _Derek," Addison said in a sharp whisper as she tried to retrieve her arm. "What are you doing?"_

_Derek ignored her remarks until they were in the parking lot. He opened the door for Addison and let her in the car before entering._

" _We're going home." He stated simply, inserting the key into the ignition._

" _Oh..." She replied, slightly confused as to whether or not her husband was upset._

_The drive back home was eerily silent; Addison continuously glanced at Derek trying to read his expression. When they arrived, he exited the car and quickly walked up the stairs to the Brownstone, leaving Addison alone in the car._

_She let out an exasperated sigh, got out of the car and marched up the stairs. She yanked the door open and as soon as she closed it Derek spun her around, pressed her against the wall and engulfed her lips in a passionate kiss. He momentarily pulled away and she tried to speak, but he kissed her again, pushing his body further against hers._

" _You were miserable," He said in a heavy breath when the need for air became evidently necessary._

" _I was miserable." She panted, her lips brushing against his._

" _So I brought you home," He continued, running his hands across her hips. "And now I'm making it up to you."_

_Addison did not respond verbally; she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another heated kiss. Her lips then moved to his neck, pressing kisses hungrily along the side. She arched her body into his and moaned breathily when she felt his erection pressing against her inner thigh. He sidled a hand underneath her blouse and caressed the soft, silky skin along her sides and lower back. She ceased her attack on his neck and swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to the floor. Her hands ran up and down his chest and Derek groaned when she began to unbuckle his belt. His hands slowly moved over her br—_

**BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!**

_Shit!_ The shrill beeping of Derek's pager promptly catapulted him back into the present. He hesitantly stood up and entered the trailer, advancing towards the phone to find out why he was needed at the hospital.


	3. A Familiar Stranger

 

Addison strolled along the smooth concrete sidewalk—Hermes bag in hand, making her way towards the Omni Los Angeles Hotel at California Plaza. She entered the building and smiled as her skin welcomed the chilly air. She approached the concierge at the wide, cherry oak desk and informed her that she was there for the medical conference.

"Okay, your name, ma'am?" The tiny woman at the front desk asked.

"Dr. Addison Montgomery." She responded.

"The conference room is straight down the hall," the concierge informed while gesturing with her hands. "Take a left, first door on your right."

"Thank you." Addison responded kindly.

She turned on her heel and headed to the conference room. She entered, glanced around, and took a seat at a table a few feet away from the door. A herd of doctors soon flooded the room, and Addison watched as they shuffled towards tables.

A few minutes after everyone was seated, a tall woman with wispy, grey hair approached the podium. Addison ignored her screechy voice welcoming them to the conference; she was far more interested in observing her surroundings.

Her eyes settled upon a familiar face and widened in disbelief while her heart-rate increased as she stared at the man walking through the door. She blinked rapidly in a futile attempt to make the person disappear. They locked eyes and she whipped her head around silently cursing herself.

* * *

Derek Shepherd sat in the back of a taxi cab, his face ridden with aggravation. Richard had insisted that he attend the conference being held at the Omni Los Angeles Hotel, claiming that it would benefit the hospital if he was one of the speakers. After a particularly uncompromising speech from Richard, he had half-heartedly agreed, which was why he had flown in the day the conference started, instead of the night before.

The taxi came to a stop and Derek forcibly removed his body from the vehicle and paid the driver. He watched sadly as the man drove off, feeling as though he had been abandoned and left to dwindle away. He stood in front of the extravagant hotel and sighed; its view had no effect on him. He entered, then approached the concierge standing behind the front desk and informed her that he was there to check-in and that he would also be attending the medical conference.

"Your name, Sir?" She inquired, looking at him intently.

"Dr. Shepherd, Derek Shepherd." He responded, dragging his words.

After checking-in, he entered the elevator and slowly made his way to his hotel room—well aware that he was late for the commencement of the conference. He flung his body onto the plush, king-sized bed and buried his face in a pillow. After a few minutes of lying lifelessly and grumbling various obscenities about why he had allowed Richard to convince him to show up there, he headed to the minibar, pulled out a small bottle of scotch and downed it nonchalantly. He sat on the floor rolling the empty bottle back and forth and picked at the fluffy, green carpet.

After he determined that he was about as ready as he would ever be, he walked over to the mirror, used his fingers to rake his straggly hair in place, smoothed the wrinkles out of his clothes with the palms of his hands, and then left his hotel room.

Derek found his way to the conference room and entered quietly, trying to avoid attention. He looked around in search of a seat and froze when his eyes locked with hers.

_I try to force my feet in a different direction, but they refuse to obey me. When my eyes met hers I simply gravitated towards her; let's just say it's because there is an empty seat at her table. I settle myself in the seat across from her and I give her a small smile; thankfully, she returns it. She focuses her attention on the speaker and I pretend to do the same._

_I can't stop myself from stealing glances at her. This is the first time I've seen her since the divorce and she…well, she looks amazing. Her skin is beautifully tanned, a warm bronze that makes her glow. Her hair is also different—it's shorter—I don't like it, but I can't say that it doesn't suit her. A few rebellious strands of hair lay loosely along the side of her face and I am tempted to gently brush them in place._

_She is wearing a navy blue pencil dress that hugs her body perfectly. I can't see much of it, but I know it does because I know that dress—I was there when she bought it. Thinking about that day causes a smile to spread across my face. I reluctantly peel my eyes away from her and urge myself to focus on the speaker._

_xxx_

_I see him advancing towards my table and I am immediately grateful that the only seat available is across from me. He smiles at me, I smile back and quickly return my attention to the speaker. I look at him discretely from the corner of my eye and I can't help noticing his slightly dishevelled appearance…And why is he staring at me? I self-consciously run a hand through my hair and shift in my seat._

_The lady with the screechy voice finally finishes her speech and I stand up, ready to leave. Derek walks around the table, stands in front of me and says my name with such wonderment. It's the first time I've heard his voice in months. It sounds so foreign—not his voice—the way he said my name._

"Derek." She responded, meeting his eyes then looking down to brush microscopic lint off her dress.

He leaned in and gave her a hug, momentarily lingering in her embrace.

"It's nice to see you. You look fantastic." He stated, face beaming with excitement.

"Thanks," She replied, her smile mirroring his. "You too."

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Great, I'm good. You?" She responded, looking at him attentively.

"Good, everything's good."

_She's standing in front of me and her body is in full view. That's definitely the dress—not that I needed confirmation. Okay, Derek, you've made it past pleasantries, now's the time to ask._

"I was thinking about going somewhere for lunch, would you like to join me? And afterwards, maybe you can show me around the city?" He suggested nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

"Um, sure. I uh, know a place right around the corner from here." She stuttered, clearly caught off guard by her ex-husband's proposal.

Derek followed Addison's lead, and they left the conference room. The short walk to the café was made in a comfortable silence, both of them taking in the scenery and enjoying the warmth of the sun on their skin. They stopped in front of a quaint café at the end of the block, and Addison turned to face Derek.

"This is it." She chirped.

Derek opened the door, Addison entered, and he followed behind her. A few minutes later, they were seated at a table enjoying their lunch.

"So, how are things at work?" Derek asked with his head bent towards his plate. He wiped his mouth with a napkin then looked at her.

"Good. I'm not as busy as I'm used to, but I don't mind. That leaves lots of room for other fun—interesting things. I could—" She started, but Derek interrupted.

"If you're trying to convince me that you're not bored, you're doing a terrible job." Derek chuckled. He shook his head slightly and waited for her to respond.

"I'm not bored," She protested, straightening her posture. "I haven't had many interesting cases, but I am not bored."

"Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself." He replied, a smirk gracing his lips.

"How's Meredith?" She asked, disregarding his last comment.

Derek hesitated for a moment before responding with, "We broke up."

"You broke up?" She repeated, clearly confused. She was certain after their divorce Derek and Meredith would ride off into the sunset together, yet he was there telling her that they were no longer a couple. Part of her was upset that their relationship did not work out, and part of her wanted to gloat about his failed relationship with his intern.

"Yes," He answered plainly. "I'm dating someone else, Rose."

"Rose?" She questioned. She bit her lower lip in an attempt to suppress the inappropriate laughter that threatened to creep out of her mouth.

"Yes, Rose. She's a nurse. She works at the hospital."

"Oh…" She said, not trusting herself to utter anymore words regarding Rose.

"What about you, are you dating anyone?" Derek asked.

"I have a boyfriend, Matthew." She lied. She was not in a committed relationship. She had been dating Matthew for three weeks—not a serious relationship, but Derek didn't need to know that.

Derek's face contorted, which did not go unnoticed by Addison although she wasn't sure of the cause. She poked vegetables around her plate with a fork, and after a few minutes of watching Derek silently eat, she spoke again.

"How's the chief?" She inquired, trying to revive the conversation. She pushed the plate away from her and sipped her drink.

He shrugged, then responded with a lack of enthusiasm, "Fine."

"And Mark?" Addison asked, ignoring his behavioural changes.

"I'm sure you know." Derek scoffed, straightening his body in his chair.

"Really, Derek?" She questioned, disbelieving his insolence.

"You're seriously going to pretend that you haven't been with him since you moved here?"

Her eyes pierced through him and she pursed her lips. She inhaled and exhaled slowly trying to regain her composure.

"I can't believe you re—" She blurted, stopping mid-sentence. "I'm not doing this." She stated, shaking her head at him disapprovingly. "We're divorced, and I didn't move to LA just so you could show up here and patronize me." She gathered her purse and stood up to leave.

"You know, I actually thought we could be civil." She admitted sadly. With that, she turned around and left the café.

Derek sat paralysed at the table for a moment, mentally kicking himself for his mindlessness. After regaining control of his body, he quickly exited the café and stood on the sidewalk watching her stride with purpose.

"Addison! Addison, wait!" He shouted, pausing between pleas anticipating her turning to face him. "Addie, please stop!" He yelled again, but his efforts were fruitless.

He considered running after her, but decided that it was best to let her go. He watched her retreating form until it vanished, then he dragged his heavy feet along the sidewalk and headed back to the hotel with his head hung in defeat.


	4. Spend the Day with Me

Derek Shepherd sporadically tossed and turned in his bed that night. No amount of position shifting or pillow fluffing had been able to clear his conscience. He questioned why seeing her that afternoon had exhilarated him—he had a pretty clear idea why, but he was not ready to admit it.

One of the few things he had been ready to admit was that he needed to apologise to his ex-wife. _You know, I actually thought we could be civil._ Her words danced around his head, refusing to be stilled.

Was he really past the point of civility? No. He knew he could be civil. It was, well, Derek had been thrown off by the fact that his ex-wife had stated that she was in a relationship, although he had lost the right to be jealous or anything of that sort—they were divorced. He had supposedly moved on, she had done the same. What was the problem?

Despite his night of restless slumber, Derek awoke with a sense of purpose and one goal in mind—apologising to Addison. He had been scheduled to speak that morning, and she that afternoon, so he knew that he would have the opportunity to see her.

He took longer than usual getting ready, feeling the need to pay careful attention to his appearance. He headed to the conference room after getting dressed and stopped by a table in a corner of the room for a quick breakfast—coffee, and what appeared to be a cinnamon and raisin bagel.

He surveyed the room, his eyes trained to locate the stylish red-head. Why did he think she would be there? She was not speaking until that afternoon. Maybe it was because when they were married, whenever they had attended a conference together, she would always sit in on his lectures. He would insist that she didn't have to come, she would say that she loved hearing him speak. She had always been his biggest supporter, and he hers—until things changed…

He sighed sadly after realizing that she wasn't there, gathered his notes and headed towards the podium. He started his presentation that detailed his new technique for treating Post-stroke Aphasia, and when he concluded an hour later, everyone in the room stood and applauded. As he descended from the stage, he was barraged by a group of doctors all eager to shake his hand and offer their praise—as if he needed another ego boost. Instead of heading back to his hotel room, Derek lingered around, waiting for his ex-wife.

* * *

Addison arrived at the hotel approximately two hours before she was scheduled to speak. She didn't have any patients to see that day, so she had decided to attend the seminar being held by Samantha Henstridge—the woman considered second best to her; Addison thought that was a huge overstatement.

She entered the main conference room and headed to the coffee machine. She was busy stirring copious amounts of sugar and creamers into her cup when a familiar face approached her.

"Elizabeth!" Addison exclaimed, starring at the raven-haired woman in disbelief.

They embraced and began a fervent conversation as Addison continued to prepare her coffee. When they turned to find a table, she noticed him. He was sat at a table across the room with his body directed towards her. She did not acknowledge him. Instead, she took a seat at the nearest table and continued her conversation.

Derek sat with his chin in the palm of his hand and his eyes fixated on Addison's lips trying to make out her words. She was in a seemingly riveting conversation with Elizabeth, whom he immediately recognised as an old colleague from New York. He squinted a little harder, and just as he thought he was about to decipher a sentence, they stood and made their way to the session that was held in the adjacent room.

Derek soon followed and sat in a seat two rows behind his ex-wife. If someone had asked him what Samantha's session had been about, he would not have been able to answer. He was far too preoccupied with trying to find a way to get Addison away from Elizabeth without actually _prying_ her away.

Hence, when the presentation ended, before Derek even realised what was happening, he found himself following his ex-wife. When she left the conference room with Elizabeth, he was not far behind. He watched as Addison stopped to shake a few hands, he heard when Elizabeth told her a story about a scrub nurse collapsing in the OR during a C-section she had performed the previous week, and when both of them handed business cards to a few eager, young doctors: Derek was nearby.

So, it was no surprise that when Addison headed to the bathroom, Derek followed. He waited in the hall near the door with his hands in his pockets and ignored the questioning glances he received. A tap on his shoulder startled him, and he turned around to find his ex-wife standing in front of him.

"Derek, why are you stalking me?" She remarked. She tilted her head to the side and placed a hand on her hip as she waited for a response.

"I'm not stalking you." Derek replied defensively.

"Then explain why I…" Addison began to list all the places that she had seen her ex-husband, being sure to add that she noticed he was suspiciously close.

"Okay." He stated in an attempt to cease her ramble.

"And I doubt it was just a coincidence because—"

"Addison," Derek said, firm enough for her to get the idea that he wanted her to be quiet. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled.

"I didn't intend to follow you around. I just—I was trying to apologise." He said, dropping his gaze to the floor, evidently embarrassed—his irrationality finally catching up with him. "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday, and I want a chance to make it up to you, if you'll let me." He continued, his eyes met hers and he gave her a small smile.

"Derek, you don't have to make it up to me, its fine." She said, shaking her head lightly.

"Spend the day with me, Addie."

"What? Why?"

"You said you thought we could be civil." He explained. "I ruined things yesterday and I just want today. Give me today to prove to you that we don't have to be one of those divorced couples that hate each other and argue every time they cross paths...Spend the day with me."

"Derek, my presentation starts in a few minutes."

"I know. What about after? We can…" He scrambled for a suggestion. "We can go to the park."

"The park?" Addison questioned, raising an eyebrow at her ex-husband.

"Yeah, you love the park." He confirmed, flashing her a bright smile.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah," Addison nodded, giving him a small smile. "We can go after my presentation."

She turned and ambled towards the conference room and without invitation, Derek followed.

He sat in the front row with a broad smile on his face as he watched Addison speak. The room was filled to capacity—it was no secret that she was one of the most popular doctors there. When she concluded her presentation, Derek walked over to her and watched as she gathered her notes.

"You were great." He said, smiling at her then looking around the room watching the people head out.

"Thank you." Addison replied, looking up at him and returning his smile.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," She answered, picking up her briefcase and handbag. "We can walk, there's a park nearby."

They left the hotel and stopped in the parking lot so that Addison could place her briefcase in her car. When they began their walk to the park, Derek held out his hand for Addison to hold, and naturally, she accepted.

They walked along a path in the park until they encountered a wooden bench surrounded by a circle of trees. He released her hand as they sat, and she reminded herself that the spark she felt when they held hands meant nothing—just familiarity.

xxxx

"They look so much bigger," She commented as she swiped through the photos of Derek's nieces and nephews on his phone. "It's almost been a year since I've seen them, they all look so different now." She said with a smile, trying to hide the sadness behind her words.

"They miss you," He admitted, looking away from the phone and meeting her eyes. "So do my sisters, you know they like you better than me, especially Nancy." He nudged her with his shoulder and chuckled.

She didn't respond verbally, she just gave him a small laugh. She missed them too. She had spoken to Nancy a few times since the divorce, but it was not the same. She didn't allow herself to remain too close.

xxxx

"Derek, there was water everywhere," Addison said, hitting Derek playfully because he always tried to downplay the damage he had caused. They were reminiscing about the time Derek had refused to call a plumber to fix the pipes in their master bathroom because he had insisted he could handle it himself. "It was so bad, we needed new carpeting in our bedroom."

"It wasn't _that_ bad, Addison. And I still can't believe you made me sleep in the guestroom and almost went _a week_ without talking to me." He stated, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"It was _one_ day, Derek." She said, stretching her words. "I didn't speak to you for _one_ day, and it wasn't even a full day."

"Well, it felt much longer to me." He declared.

They both fell into a bout of laughter and once it subside, there was a brief silence. They watched as leaves slowly fell from trees and smiled at the children who were chasing each other around the fountain. He stared at her as the wind tousled her hair and for a moment, it was as if nothing had changed.

After a few minutes, Derek suggested they get ice-cream from the cart across the park, so they left the bench.

xxxx

"Derek!" Addison yelped as she flailed her arms around trying to divert a bee that buzzed around her head.

"Addison, stop moving and just wait for it to fly away." He sighed. He always found the way she reacted to those tiny insects utterly ridiculous.

She continued to squeal and flail her body around until she finally tumbled to the ground. Derek stood in front of her, and held out his hands to help her up.

"Derek, why are you laughing?" She asked as she brushed dirt and grass off her silky, black skirt. "This isn't funny." She huffed as she looked at him and pouted.

"I'm sorry," He said through his laughter. "It's just that this," He gestured towards her with his hands as she continued to rid her skirt of debris. "reminds me of that Fourth of July."

"Derek, don't even start," She warned. "I still think that was worse than the Hot Dog Thanksgiving. Your mother thought that she was my next target."

"Addie, you freaked out about the bees that were flying around. You moved around so much that you ran into mom causing both of you to fall down and she nearly landed on the grill AND she sprained her ankle trying to break her fall. Then Kath—"

"Derek, I don't _need_ you to tell me the story," Addison interrupted. "I know what happened!" She exclaimed in frustration, rolling her eyes at him as he continued to laugh.

"Okay," He said, as he held his hands in surrender. "But seriously, Addie, they're just bees and if you don't move when—"

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him causing him to pause mid-sentence.

"I won't say anything else." Derek assured, finally receiving the message.

"They're not just bees." She grumbled under her breath as they walked back to the ice-cream cart to replace the one she had lost in her battle with the bee.

After finishing their frozen confections, they headed back to the hotel. Although Derek had only asked for today, he ended up receiving tomorrow when Addison had suggested that she take him to see Sam and Naomi. He walked her to her car and waited until she drove off before heading back to his hotel room.

* * *

Addison had spent most of the next morning at St. Ambrose Hospital performing an ex utero intrapartum treatment procedure that took longer than expected because complications arose while establishing an airway so that the foetus could breathe. The surgery was ultimately a success; mother and baby were stable and in recovery. After checking on her patients a final time, Addison headed to her office at Oceanside Wellness to finish the paperwork that she had started the previous day.

She glanced at the clock on her desk and noted the time was twelve minutes past one, so she prepared to leave. Derek's last session at the conference had started at noon, and she had told him she would pick him up afterwards so that they could have lunch with Sam and Naomi. She grabbed her purse, left the practice, and drove to the hotel.

xxxx

After lunch with Sam and Naomi, Derek and Addison went back to his hotel room. He had convinced her to take him to the airport and had insisted they watch movies in his room until it was time to leave.

"Addie." Derek whispered, gently shaking Addison, who had fallen asleep.

"Hummm?" She mumbled as she lifted her head off his shoulder and stretched her arms above her head.

"It's time to head to the airport, unless you've changed your mind about taking me." He joked, looking at her as she struggled to keep her heavy eyelids open.

"Okay," She yawned, running her fingers through her hair. "How long have I been asleep?" She stood up and moved away from the couch.

"I don't know, maybe a little over an hour. You fell asleep during the second movie."

Addison nodded her head in response.

"Some things never change." Addison said as Derek walked to the opposite side of the room to pack his suitcase. Derek always waited for the last possible minute to pack his suitcase, so whenever they travelled together, she always packed way ahead of schedule to ensure that they did not leave anything.

Derek shrugged. "I hate packing, so I procrastinate. You know that."

She walked over to help him and removed the clothes that he had carelessly stuffed into the suitcase; then neatly folded them before placing them back inside.

xxxx

"That's me." Derek said to Addison after he heard the 'now boarding' call. His flight had been delayed for an hour, so Addison had waited with him.

"Yeah it is." She responded as she stood to face him.

They said their goodbyes and Addison did not resist the hug that Derek pulled her in for before he turned around and headed towards his gate.

As Addison watched her ex-husband leave, she tried to push aside the nagging feeling that she would be seeing him again soon, and placing him back into that tiny box may be a little more difficult than she had imagined.


	5. Contentment

"What are you smiling at?" Naomi asked as she poked her head through the door of Addison's office.

Addison averted her eyes from her desk and placed her pen on the incomplete paperwork in front of her. It's not like she had been doing anything constructive with it—she had spent the past thirty minutes tapping it against her desk and occasionally clicking it open and close.

Addison smiled at Naomi and shook her head slowly.

"Nothing." She said. She was not quite sure where to begin, but for some indistinct reason, she could not contain the smile that continued to spread across her face.

"I was just thinking." She went on.

Thinking: She did a lot of that. Whether it be deep and meaningful, or something as simple as what outfit she was going to wear the next day. After long days at work, she looked forward to going home, pouring herself a glass of wine, and sitting on her deck with her feet perched in a chair, allowing the gentle ocean breeze to caress her skin.

Some days, she sat there for hours and got lost in the calming crashing of the waves against the shore. When the foamy outline of the water against the sand had retreated, it carried her worries with it.

"Thinking about?" Naomi probed. She entered the office, leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest.

Addison took a moment to respond.

"It's just, since I've been here." She did not fully know how to explain it, but she continued anyway. "I feel good. I mean, some days are harder than others, but for the most part, I feel great." Addison paused and smiled at Naomi again. "Nae, you know me. I'm a worrier. I always wonder what if I had done this, or maybe if I had said that, things would be different. But it's easier. I finally feel…" She hung her head and tapped her fingers against her desk as she struggled to find the right words. "I don't feel out of place. I love living in LA. I love working here with all of you."

When Addison had initially arrived, she had felt as unwanted and lonely as she was in Seattle (and New York), but before she knew it, she had been accepted, welcomed (albeit not with open arms).

"I'm happy." She beamed.

There were days she felt like a failure, and sometimes she questioned every decision she made, but she woke up in the morning with a purpose and an acquired sense of freedom that she could not begin to explain.

"Thank you." Addison said softly.

Naomi contorted her face in confusion before she asked, "For what?"

"For convincing me to come out here. I've been able to clear my head and focus on _me_. I've learnt a lot about myself, I'm still learning. Seeing things from a new perspective really helped. I'm finally starting to feel like Addison again."

"I'm happy." She repeated, because she loved the way it felt to say it _and_ mean it.

A few months after she had moved to LA, Violet had told her that happiness was a choice. At first, Addison had thought that was completely ridiculous, but she slowly began to realise that Violet had been right. She could have dwelled on all of the things that went wrong in her life and focus on everything she lacked, or she could have chosen to appreciate what she had and make the best of it and acknowledge the little things that made her smile throughout the day. Needless to say, Addison had chosen to be content with where her life was at the moment.

"So thank you for being here," She continued. "You and Sam have been great and I don't think I could have done any of this without you."

Naomi moved her body away from the wall and advanced towards Addison. She placed her hand over Addison's and squeezed it lightly.

"You don't have to thank me, Addie," She said. "I'm your friend, and I'm happy to be here for you, I'll always be here for you."

Addison smiled softly at the sincerity in Naomi's voice.

"Who are these from?" Naomi asked, pointing to the bouquet of lilies at the corner of Addison's desk.

Instead of waiting for a response, Naomi leaned over, removed the note from the bouquet, and Addison did not protest.

"Looking forward to seeing you tonight, beautiful," Naomi read. She faced Addison and raised her brow inquisitively. "Are these from Matthew?"

Addison nodded.

"So things are going well." She did not ask, she stated it with a wide smile as though she had been certain.

"Yeah." Addison sighed. She placed a hand underneath her chin to support her head.

That night would have been the tenth time she went on a date with Matthew over the course of four weeks. Addison had made it clear that she wanted to take things slow—she was not interested in a serious relationship right then. Matthew had said that he desired to continue dating her, and that he was willing to wait until she was ready for a serious relationship because he was quite fond of her.

Naomi continued to badger her friend with questions about Matthew, and Addison satisfied her curious mind with answers. After she received the information she demanded, Naomi left as quickly as she had appeared, and Addison finally put that pen to use and began filling out the papers in front of her.

* * *

Addison had been flipping through a patient's file when the ringing of her cell-phone compelled her to stop. She shuffled the papers on her desk in an effort to locate it, and momentarily paused to chastise herself for choosing such an annoying ringtone.

'Richard did something to his hair, I think he dyed it.' Was the first thing Addison heard her ex-husband say, followed by his laughter, and she was certain she heard Mark in the background. Addison stifled a laugh and shook her head in amusement as she pictured them behaving like a group of adolescents. Derek told her that 'Richard did it for the ladies' and that she should have been there to see it because it was extremely hard not to stare. Addison commanded him (and Mark) to leave Richard alone because he was going through a difficult time—his wife of twenty-four years had left him. After the call ended, Addison relaxed her body in her chair and shook her head in disbelief—she still could not believe that she had conversations with her ex-husband.

The first time he had called was when he had returned to Seattle after the conference.

When Addison had answered the phone, he had said, "It's raining, and I'm glad you're in LA where it's sunny. I know you hate how much it rains in Seattle."

She had wanted to say, "There's a lot more I hate about Seattle besides the rain." Instead, she had replied with, "Well, it's not _always_ sunny in LA."

The second time they had spoken, it had started with something equally as trivial. Addison had seen a car she knew he would like so she had called to tell him about it. Derek, of course, had been very excited. He had tried to get Addison to divulge every little detail—as if she had been that observant.

After the second week, things had shifted. Derek had called just to see how she was doing, or he had wanted advice about something that she was certain he could have handled himself. Somewhere between a conversation about med school and a dinner Bizzy wanted Addison and Archer to attend, she had realized that she and her ex-husband may have something salvageable.

 _Is it really possible for me to be friends with my ex-husband?_ She supposed only time would afford her the answer to that question.

* * *

Addison had been pulled from her reverie when she was informed that one of her patients were in the ER of St. Ambrose Hospital.

She arrived so swiftly that she did not remember how or when she got there. They only thing she had been able to focus on was the woman on the gurney in front of her.

"The car, the car! I, I didn't see it!" The frantic yelling of Mrs. Reynolds' husband pierced through Addison's ears as he tried to get closer to his wife. "It, it came out of nowhere. Is my wife going to be okay?"

Addison looked up to meet his wide, tear filled eyes. As soon as she formed her lips to speak, another doctor guided him away from the gurney and said, "We'll do everything we can to save your wife."

Addison continued barking orders until the critically injured woman was rushed to an OR for emergency surgery.

After scrubbing in, Addison entered the operating room and assumed her position.

"10 blade." She stated, holding out a gloved hand to receive it.

Addison pressed the sharp blade into the patient's lower abdomen and made a vertical incision, dividing skin and parting the large abdominal muscle. Finally, the knife slipped through the opening, allowing Addison to cut into the peritoneum. She sliced into the uterus and reached in, pulling baby Reynolds out feet first. Addison placed his pale, limp body into the arms of a waiting nurse.

Addison's once pristine, white gloved hands were swimming in a pool of blood inside of Mrs. Reynolds' abdominal cavity. She did not have to look at the monitor to know that her patient's systolic blood pressure was significantly decreasing—it was obvious. Her hands tried desperately to stop Mrs. Reynolds from haemorrhaging, she was barely able to see, and suction was of little help.

"She's in hypovolemic shock!" A doctor yelled frantically.

"I can't get the bleeding under control!" Addison yelled back in frustration.

"It's not just her uterus. The impact damaged her liver and gallbladder; they're both haemorrhaging." Dr. Stern chimed in as he continued to work hurriedly across the operating table.

It all happened before Addison could blink. Mrs. Reynolds was in cardiac arrest and the monitor displayed no electrical activity.

"Push 1 of Epi!" Dr. Wallace ordered as they started CPR.

After ten agonizing minutes, Dr. Wallace stopped chest compressions and his eyes met Addison's sadly. She knew what he wanted, Mrs. Reynolds was her patient—he wanted her to call it.

Addison looked at the OR clock and inhaled deeply before she allowed the words to escape her mouth, "Time of death, 6:55 pm."

Upon hearing those words, everyone backed away from Mrs. Reynolds' body and stared sympathetically. The room was filled with complete and utter despair. Words were not spoken as tubes were disconnected and machines turned off.

After a moment, Addison exited the OR faced with the dreaded task of notifying Mr. Reynolds. She stopped in the NICU to check on the baby—they had told her he was stable, but she needed to confirm that herself. A small smile spread across Addison's face as she looked at his squirming, pinkish body in the incubator. They were keeping him for observation due to difficulties breathing after delivery, but besides that—at 34 weeks—he was completely healthy. Addison did not know how long she stood there watching him before she finally left and headed to the waiting room.

Her eyes landed on his dejected body as soon as she entered. He was leaning over a chair with his face in the palms of his hands.

She cleared her throat before saying, "Mr. Reynolds."

He raised his head putting his tear-stained face in perfect view. His eyes widened hopefully. "She's, she's okay, right? Can, can I see her?" He choked out.

Addison swallowed deeply, trying to prepare herself for what she was about to say.

"I'm so sorry…" She began.

She was barely able to finish the rest of her speech over the pained sobbing of Mr. Reynolds. His body slid to the floor and he clenched his fists tightly. Addison got on her knees and placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"Don't touch me," He gasped, flicking her hand away from his shoulder. "You, you killed my wife." He stated through ragged breaths.

Addison returned to her feet and backed away from him as someone—whom she assumed was a family member—wrapped their arms around his trembling form.

Addison smoothed out her coat, turned around and headed towards the door as she tried her best to remain detached. Nothing was harder than telling a loved one their family member had died—it never got any easier for her. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and exited the waiting room.

* * *

Addison sat at the table lost deep in thought. She stared at the plate in front of her and pushed the barely eaten food around.

"Addison, you seem distant. What's wrong?" Matthew asked gently as he stabbed his fork into a piece of broccoli.

They were having dinner at Addison's beach house. Addison had suggested that they eat in instead of going to some fancy restaurant. She had made dinner—well, she had ordered takeout and put it on plates, close enough.

Addison refilled her wine glass and took a sip, savouring the taste of Cabernet on her tongue.

"I'm fine." She said, mustering a small smile. Addison was grateful he did not push further.

After a while, plates were placed in the sink and they relocated to the couch in the living area.

"So, you're spending a week in Santa Barbara?" Addison asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yeah," Matthew answered with a broad smile. "My dad is really looking forward to seeing me."

Addison admired the relationship that Matthew had with his father. He was always eager to tell her stories about him and she would gladly listen. She particularly loved the story about the summers they had spent at his grandparent's house in Indiana. Matthew's dad would sit on the porch and watch as Matt and his sister sat on the swing in front of the house to watch the rain flood the huge lake across the street. Matthew had said that little things like that; simply being able to spend time with his family, meant a lot to him. Addison wished that she had shared memories like that with her parents.

The conversation ceased, and both of their eyes were focused on the television for a fleeting moment. Matthew inched closer to Addison and gave her a soft smile as he looked at her. He leaned in and she stared at him intently before his lips brushed against hers. He kissed her lower lip gently and reached an arm around her lower back, pulling her closer. His lips continued to run smoothly over hers, and she slowly parted her lips to allow his tongue entry. Without warning, he deepened the kiss and she allowed it. She let him kiss her. _Really_ kiss her. Not their usual chaste peck on the lips. Tongues duelled. Lips wrestled for control. He leaned her into the couch and pressed his body against hers.

_But:_

His hand began to caress her thigh, and she closed her eyes tightly before pushing him away. Addison sat up, and ran a hand over her lips as Matthew stared at her in confusion.

"It's late." She almost whispered.

Matthew took a moment to compose himself before he replied with, "Yeah, I should go."

Addison walked him out and after they exchanged 'good-nights', she closed the door, pressed her back against it and exhaled loudly. She kicked off her shoes, marched to the table, grasped her half-full wine glass, and headed to the deck. She sat with her feet curled tightly under her, wine glass in hand, and listened to the crashing of the waves as the cool ocean breeze tousled her hair.

In that moment, the tears that she had been holding back since Mrs. Reynolds had flat-lined slowly trickled down her rosy cheeks, and she did not attempt to brush them away.


	6. Welcome Back

"Fine Mark, I'll meet you in the cafeteria at three." Derek said as he stepped out of the elevator. He let out an annoyed sigh and headed towards the nurses' station.

Mark was certainly making it difficult for Derek to hate him. Derek thought if he resisted any act of kindness or acted rude and uncaring, Mark would give up and leave him alone. He was completely wrong – Mark refused to waver, he persisted day after day. Mark always initiated conversation or suggested that they hang out somewhere. Derek wasn't sure if Mark kept trying to apologize because he was truly sorry or if he was simply attempting to clear his conscience. What he did know was, even though Mark was ready to apologize, he wasn't ready to hear it or accept it. However, Derek occasionally appeased him, thus agreeing to lunch in the cafeteria.

He set his chart on the counter of the nurses' station, reached into his front coat pocket for a pen, and began filling it out. After he was finished, he handed it to a nurse behind the counter then headed down the hall. The sound of indistinct voices filled the stillness of the slender, white washed corridors.

The voices got louder as he neared a patient's room and the details of the argument forced him to stop. Derek placed his back against the wall beside the doorway and listened intently.

"Why do you keep saying that!" He heard a female voice yell.

Derek leaned his head sideways and discretely peered into the room. His eyes focused on the incensed, raven-haired woman, sat on the bed rubbing her hands across her face.

"I told you not to come!" She bellowed, jolting her head towards the coltish man in front of her.

The man began to pace around the room with his fists clenched tightly. He stopped abruptly, looked down at his dusty black boots and released a puff of air. He removed his gaze from the floor and his dark, rage filled eyes shot daggers at her.

"I didn't want this!" He grunted. "I didn't want any of this!" He waved his hands furiously towards the woman's protruding stomach.

"Like I said before you didn't have to come. Why are you even– " She began, but he interrupted.

"Neither of us should be here!" He said through gritted teeth, his face flushed red with anger as the veins in his head and neck became visible. He walked closer to the bed, peered down at her and snorted, "I told you to get an abortion!" The woman clutched her rounded stomach and bent her head as she quickly swiped away a few stray tears.

Derek flinched at the man's outburst as though the words were meant for him. The intensity his voice held was unnerving. He cautiously glanced around the hall to see if anyone was nearby. Derek knew he should not have been listening, but his feet refused to walk away.

"Why did you stay?" She whispered. Derek returned his gaze back into the room and continued to watch the scene unfold. "You didn't have to stay with me. I told you I could do this on my own." She used one hand to rub circles around her stomach as the other tangled into her mound of curly tresses.

The man scoffed and shook his head vigorously. "You don't get it! You always do this!" He paced the room once again as his voice increased. "You make it seem– "

"Dr. Shepherd."

Derek jumped in surprise and turned to face the voice that beckoned him.

"What are you doing." Dr. Bailey asked frankly.

Derek placed his hands in his lab-coat pockets and glanced around nervously. His gaze fell to his feet, unable to make direct eye contact as he spoke. "Miranda I, I was uh, well–"

"Save it!" Miranda said, cutting him off. She shook her head disapprovingly and placed a hand on her hip.

"Why didn't you answer your page? Dr. Burke needs a consult."

"Oh, I uh, left my pager in my office." He stammered.

"Well go get it! And Dr. Burke still needs a consult."

"Right." Derek said as he walked away awkwardly, still unable to shake the feeling of embarrassment.

"Sneaking around this hospital eavesdropping on patients..." Dr. Bailey grumbled as she watched Derek's retreating form.

* * *

The two large, automatic, glass doors flew open and the air hit him like a bullet. He paused mid-step and filled his lungs with the fresh air he had been deprived of for hours. Derek squinted his eyes as the sun beamed down on his face warming his numb cheeks. He took a seat on a nearby bench and placed both hands behind his head as he indulged in his moment of solitude. After his consult with Burke, he had spent five hours in surgery operating on an ER patient with a ruptured aneurysm. He was grateful to have a moment to clear his head, especially since his earlier eavesdropping session left his mind whirling.

The short interaction he had witnessed between the couple lead him to believe they were miserable, which prompted him to wonder what adjectives came to mind when someone thought of him. Derek's mind was burning with the question: _How do others perceive me?_

After a few minutes, the bird that he had been intently watching waddle up and down the concrete sidewalk flew away, so he took that as his cue to leave. Derek stood and made a scene of stretching his body in odd directions in front of the bench. His body tingled at the sudden temperature change as he re-entered the hospital, making his way to the cafeteria to meet Mark.

"Derek!" Mark called out, signaling him over to his table.

Derek walked over and placed his lunch tray on the table. "Mark." He greeted.

Mark nodded his head in salute and continued stuffing french fries into his mouth. Derek's eyes lingered around the cafeteria observing the interns laughing hysterically at a table across the room and the people shuffling in and out. He occasionally took small bites of his turkey sandwich while he half-heartedly listened to Mark ramble about the nurses starting a club against him called 'Nurses United Against Mark Sloan'.

"Derek, Bailey gathered all the nurses, she was supposed to be defending me and the best she could come up with is that 'I'm a whore'." Mark stated, shaking his head in disbelief.

Derek stared blankly at Mark for a moment contemplating the question he wanted to ask. He cleared his throat then took a sip of his coffee while readjusting his body in his chair.

"Mark what do you think of me?" He asked vulnerably.

"What?" Mark asked in confusion, unsure what caused the sudden change of topic.

"When you think of me, what words come to mind?"

Mark placed his hand on his chin as he stared at Derek intently.

"You're an egotistical jackass." Mark stated pointedly, causing Derek's eyes to widen in disbelief.

Mark smirked then continued. "You can be immature and sometimes you lack self-control. When you lose your temper it shows a darker side of you that I don't think you're fully aware of. You have a tendency to hold on to things from the past and you can be bitter at times."

Derek temporarily broke his gaze with Mark to respond to the text message he had received.

"You're also very determined and competitive. You work hard and you kick ass at your job." He chuckled.

Mark leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. "You have a great sense of humor and you're compassionate and generous; you care a lot about people, Derek. Oh, and you give great advice, although you don't receive it very well."

"You're trustworthy..." Mark said, averting his eyes from Derek's.

"We go way back, so I could probably go on forever...You're a good friend Derek, you're a good guy." Mark said softly.

Derek studied Mark's face for a moment before he responded. "Thanks for being honest, Mark." He replied, giving him a small smile.

Mark took a bite of his sandwich and replied with his mouth full "No problem man."

"What are you doing?" Mark asked after swallowing and taking a sip of his drink.

"Huh?"

"Your phone hasn't left your hand since you sat down. What are you doing?"

"I was uh, texting Addison. She's coming here in a few days for a surgery; Ectopia cordis."

"I know." Mark stated pointedly.

"How did you– "

"I'm on the case. I grew a skin flap for the baby."

"Oh...Well I should uh, go check on my post-ops." Derek said, standing up and backing away from the table. "I'll uh, I'll see you around."

Mark nodded his head in agreement and watched as Derek exited the cafeteria.

* * *

A gust of wind gently carried fallen leaves across the concrete as Addison strutted down the broad walkway that led to Seattle Grace Hospital. She inhaled deeply then stopped to stare at the building in front of her. It had almost been a year since she roamed the halls of Seattle Grace; she wondered if anything had changed. Addison readjusted her bag on her arm and straightened her skirt as she watched people bustle in and out of the hospital. Her lips stretched into a smile and her eyes creased as she acknowledged the petite woman walking towards her.

"Welcome back." Miranda said cheerfully, handing Addison her security card, the patient's chart and labs.

"I'm not back. I'm here for a surgery, that's it." She replied firmly.

Addison entered the hospital standing tall, shoulders pulled back and head held high. The tapping of her stilettos against the cold tiles seemed to signal her arrival. She watched as passing nurses and orderlies exchanged knowing looks and whispers, yet she refused to let her stance falter.

"Addie!" Richard exclaimed with a wide smile. He walked up to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "You're back." He said as he broke their embrace.

"I'm not back, Richard." She replied as she began flipping through the chart in her hand.

"Oh, you're back. You're gonna smell the stink and sweat of surgery, and you're gonna be back." Richard said, his voice laced with certainty.

"So how's L.A?"

"L.A is great. I've met some really great people and it's, uh...fun. I live near the beach...it's peaceful. I love it."

"Well that's great." He said with a smile. "I'll catch up with you later, Addie." Richard said as he and Miranda headed in the opposite direction.

Addison stopped before the elevator door and pressed the button. A few doctors and nurses gathered behind her, all waiting for the ping of the elevator bell.

"No, I don't like the day shift, I love working the night shift because we have more decision-making power." One of the nurses said.

Addison tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, entered the elevator, pushed the fourth floor button, then flattened her body against the back wall. She stared fixedly at the papers in her hand only breaking focus when the elevator occasionally pinged. The doors opened to the fourth floor and there were people – in scrubs – waiting to get in. She gave them a quick smile, stepped out of the metal cubicle and headed down the hall.

"Dr. Montgomery!"

Addison smiled broadly upon hearing her name, she knew that voice. She turned to face the person behind her.

"Dr. Karev!" She exclaimed.

"We're hugging?"Alex asked confused as she pulled him into an embrace.

"Yep. I hug now. Its what I do. So, you're my guy, huh?"

"You think I'd let anyone else in on a case like this?" Alex questioned with a smug look on his face.

"You'd be a fool to." She responded as they continued down the hall.

xxx

"Nikki Jones, 25-year-old female, 35 weeks pregnant. She was diagnosed with Ectopia cordis, 6 weeks ago." Cristina said, introducing the patient.

Addison, Alex, Miranda, Cristina and Dr. Burke were in Nikki's hospital room standing around her bed informing her about what was going to take place during the surgery.

"As you know, Ectopia cordis means that your baby's heart is currently growing on the outside of his body." Dr. Burke said to Nikki as Addison flipped through the chart Cristina had handed her.

"It doesn't get any less bizarre the more times I hear it." Nikki said softly.

"Not bizarre baby, just unique. Our son is special." Nikki's husband said in an attempt to comfort her.

Addison closed the chart and directed her attention to Nikki. "This surgery will take place in two OR's. Dr. Karev and I will begin with the delivery..."

"And I'll stay behind to close your incision... " Dr. Bailey chimed in.

"While I bring your baby to OR 2 where..."

"Where I'll work on your baby's heart." said Dr. Burke

"And I'll attend to your baby's intestinal problem." Addison continued.

"What intestinal problem?" Nikki asked concerned as her brown eyes widened fearfully. Her husband rubbed his hand across her shoulders as they both looked to the doctors for an explanation.

"We've detected there might be a slight defect on your baby's diaphragm. We just want to be prepared for every contingency." Dr. Bailey informed them gently.

"I just wish I could keep him inside me...keep him safe." Nikki sighed sadly.

"He's protected no matter what...by us, by our love." Her husband assured her as he squeezed her hand lightly.

"We're all going to do everything we can to ensure the best outcome for you and your baby." Addison said reassuringly.

* * *

Addison was leaning against the railing overlooking the lower floor of the hospital. She had just finished checking on her patients for the third time in less than two hours. The surgery was a complete success and both parents were relieved to find out their baby had no further complications.

"Hey." Derek said as he stood beside her.

"Hey." Addison replied, turning to face him.

"I've been looking for you."

Addison smiled in response.

"How'd the surgery go?" He asked.

"Good. They're both fine."

"You were great in there." Derek stated proudly.

Addison contorted her face in confusion. "How do you– "

"I was in the gallery watching." He explained. "I had to leave before you were finished, but from what I saw; you were great. "

"Oh...thanks." She said, giving him a small smile.

"So, I figured it out..." Derek said as he tried to suppress is laughter.

Addison raised an eyebrow at him. "You mean last night?"

"Yeah." He laughed, holding on to the railing for support.

Addison shook her head at him while joining his laughter.

xxx

"What do you think they're talking about?" George asked curiously.

Cristina, Izzie, Alex, Meredith and George were huddled together near the nurses' station watching Derek and Addison.

"I don't know, but it must be really funny. Look at her face..." Izzie remarked. The group looked up in unison, and watched the scene in awe.

"Is it just me, or does Satan look weird to you guys too?" Cristina questioned.

"No, she doesn't look weird," Alex said, shaking his head in disagreement. "She looks hot." He declared as he turned and smirked at Cristina.

"Yeah." George agreed, nodding his head slowly.

"Do you think she's back, you know, like to stay?" asked Meredith.

"The chief still hasn't filled her position." Cristina reminded them.

"Well, I overheard her telling Callie that she loves living in L.A so..." George mentioned.

"She's not staying." Cristina, Meredith and Izzie agreed simultaneously, their eyes still fixated on the pair above them.

xxx

"You know, I thought, I don't know, that it would be weird coming back, but I gotta say, I find it strangely comforting that– "

"Hey, Red!" Mark called out causing Addison to stop mid-sentence. Derek and Addison turned to face Mark as he approached them.

"Do any of you have plans for tonight?" Mark queried.

Addison looked at Derek for confirmation before answering for both of them. "No."

"Good. We can go to Joe's." Mark suggested.

"Do you have anything to do before we go?" Derek asked Addison.

"No, we can go." Addison replied with a smile.

The trio left Seattle Grace and headed to Joe's.

* * *

The smell of nicotine and stale beer invaded their nostrils as the warm, sweat saturated air engulfed them. They were sat at a small, circular, wooden table at the back of the bar – Mark at one end and Derek and Addison side-by-side on the opposite end. Mark clutched his fourth glass of scotch in his hand as he watched his friends. Derek leaned over and whispered something in Addison's ear and she shoved him playfully in response. Mark glanced at both of their half empty glasses and shook his head in disbelief – they were too engrossed in each other to even finish their drinks. He didn't mind that they were leaving him out of the conversation; he found watching them quite amusing. In fact, he had also been observing them at the hospital. To anyone else, Addison and Derek's actions were completely innocent, inconsequential – Mark knew better. They may have been clueless about what they were doing, but Mark knew where they were headed. Allowing the alcohol to dictate his actions, Mark cleared his throat and interjected.

"Olivia Porter." He sighed.

Addison looked at Derek and they fell into a fit of laughter.

"Mark, how many drinks have you had?" Addison asked as she tried to catch her breath. "You only mention Olivia when you're full of alcohol."

Mark shrugged nonchalantly.

Mark had been in a relationship with Olivia while they were in their third year of med school. He had considered her to be the first woman he had fallen in love with. Olivia had broken up with Mark one week after he had told her he was in love with her, which had left Mark devastated.

"It was pathetic and really, really funny because well, you're Mark." Addison started. "You ran through so many women in med school and then Olivia came along and broke your heart and you fell apart."

"I had to pull him out of bed and drag him to class." Derek reminded Addison.

"He kept trying to call, but she wouldn't answer."

"And the rare times she did, all she said was, 'Mark, leave me alone'." Derek added. "And she ignored him whenever she saw him."

"Who would have thought that Mark 'The Manwhore' Sloan would fall in love." Addison stated.

Derek and Addison's lungs begged for air as laughter consumed them once again.

"You know, I'm right here." Mark quipped.

"At least we have the decency to talk about you to your face instead of behind your back." Derek said with a smirk.

"Wow, thank you, I really appreciate it. Please, entertain yourselves at my expense." Mark said sarcastically.

Mark slouched his body over the table as Addison and Derek continued their banter.


	7. The Montgomerys

The moonlight filtered through the windows and illuminated the crisp white sheet that partially covered her body. One arm dangled lifelessly from the mattress while the other rested securely across her stomach. Her body refused to succumb to its immense need for sleep. She lay awake – eyes glued to the ceiling deep in thought. She thought about: the phone conversation she had had with Savvy that morning, the twin boys she had delivered that afternoon, the dinner she had had with Sam and Naomi that night. Mostly, she thought about Beatrice Forbes Montgomery.

Bizzy had requested Addison and Archer to attend the dinner that was being held in her honor – she was being presented with the Gafford Award for outstanding innovation, commitment and leadership in community involvement. Bizzy had reasoned that it would be good for appearances if she had the support of her children. Archer convinced Addison to attend, stating that he refused to deal with Bizzy, The Captain and a bunch of snooty WASPs alone, so he needed her to show up so that he would have someone to complain with. Addison let out a light puff of air, turned to her side and curled her body into a fetal position. She regretted her decision more and more with each passing hour. Attending anything with her mother always made her nervous and incredibly self-conscious.

Bizzy never allowed room for error. She had instructed Addison and Archer to arrive early – preferably before noon, so that she would have sufficient time to _groom_ them. Addison knew that meant Bizzy wanted to be able to approve whatever they were wearing and ensure everyone's stories correlated should any questions arise. She wanted to maintain their image as a 'picture perfect family'. Addison was certain the event would have been filled with fake smiles, vicious gossip and backhanded compliments – how thrilling.

xxx

The ringing of the alarm filled the silence of the room. Addison groaned and slowly flickered her eyes open, but the burning, grainy sensation she felt advised otherwise. Eyes shut – she dragged her wobbly limbs out of bed. The redhead held on to walls and dressers for support as she stumbled her way to the bathroom. Addison lazily slid the clothes off her body and dropped them carelessly to the floor. She entered the shower and allowed the steady stream of hot water to soothe her tired body.

After a few minutes, she slid the glass door open and exited the shower. Wrapped in a plush, white towel; she stood in front of the mirror and used her hand to remove the fog from the glass. The bags under her eyes were a tell-tale sign of her restless night. _Nothing a bit of concealer can't cover up_ ; she thought. Addison mustered what little energy she could and proceeded to get ready.

xxx

"I'm just making sure you show up." Addison said as she slipped her feet into her heels while holding her cellphone to her ear.

"Because you've done it before!" She exclaimed. Addison walked into her closet and pulled out the small suitcase she had packed the night before.

"If you're not there when I arrive then all of the focus will be on me." She whined.

Addison stood in front of the floor length mirror and gave herself a final once-over. "I know, I know." she grumbled.

"Archer, just make sure you don't miss your flight." She sighed.

"Okay, I'll see you when I get there." Addison said as she walked down the stairs balancing her handbag, suitcase and dress bag in one hand.

"You too." Addison concluded, removing the phone from her ear and tapping her thumb against the screen; ending the call.

* * *

Addison's journey from L.A to Connecticut had been uneventful. She had slept through the entire flight and was about to doze off again when the town car (Bizzy sent it to pick her up from the airport) entered the grand gateway of the Montgomery estate. The car made its way down the long, slate gravel driveway that circled pass the gate. Upon arriving in front of the main entrance, the driver walked to the passenger side, opened the door and Addison slowly stepped out and inhaled deeply. The smell of freshly cut grass and Pine trees filled the air. The neatly groomed Conifers and Red Maple trees that hid the mansion from view to any outsiders, swayed playfully in the wind as the water in the pond on the West end of the estate rippled gently. She approached the large, wooden double door, smoothed out her skirt and rang the bell. Within seconds, a sinewy man opened the door and allowed Addison entry.

"Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery are in the sitting room of the East wing." He informed Addison after a brief, monotonous greeting.

She nodded in understanding and made her way to her parents.

The knot in the pit of her stomach tightened when Bizzy and The Captain came into view. Bizzy sat erect in an armchair holding a gilded teacup against her lips. She was clad in a pale grey tweed jacket and skirt – most likely Chanel. The woman was always impeccably well dressed. She would often tell Addison, 'A lady should _always_ look her best, _in_ and _out_ of the house.' Which was why Addison had always been meticulous about her appearance. The Captain placed the newspaper he had been reading on the coffee table, removed his spectacles and stood to greet his daughter.

"Kitten." He said as he gave her a quick hug.

Bizzy set her teacup on the coffee table and stood to face her daughter."Addison..." she started. Her eyes narrowed as they surveyed Addison from head to toe. "You look... _well_." Translation: 'You didn't let yourself go after the divorce.'

"Bizzy!" Addison exclaimed, feigning enthusiasm.

There was no embrace; they simply exchanged slight head nods.

Bizzy returned to her armchair and Addison sat beside her father on the sofa. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt – an action frowned upon by Bizzy, as they questioned her. Being in their presence – well being in _Bizzy's_ presence made Addison feel like she was being observed under a microscope. She couldn't recall the last time she had visited. Whenever she spoke to them, it was via telephone, and the conversations were normally brief and superficial. However, they were being unusually intrusive. Questions ranged from, 'Why did you move to L.A?' to 'Are you _involved_ with anyone?' Addison answered most questions gracefully, others she diverted by redirecting the attention to Bizzy – Beatrice _never_ passed up an opportunity to talk about herself.

"Millicent made no effort to congratulate me when they announced I was receiving the award." Bizzy told Addison. Millicent was a woman whom Bizzy had known since childhood. They often organized various fundraisers or hosted charity events together.

"She was always jealous of you." Addison said matter-of-factly. She vaguely remembered Millicent, but at that point she was willing to say anything to keep the spotlight on Bizzy.

"I suppose you're right." Bizzy replied triumphantly.

Minutes turned into over an hour and the Montgomerys' conversation grew increasingly awkward. Addison's parents made her failed marriage the center of discussion. The Captain admitted that he was quite disappointed about the divorce, and Bizzy confessed that she had indulged in a few celebratory drinks when she found out. It was no secret that Beatrice loathed Derek Shepherd. He knew it, Addison knew it, all of the Montgomerys and Shepherds knew it. Bizzy had tried to talk Addison out of marrying Derek minutes before she walked down the aisle; she never thought he was worthy of marrying into the Montgomery family.

"I thought you and Derek would have made us grandparents by now." The Captain said, looking at his daughter in an accusing manner.

Bizzy wrinkled her nose in disgust and Addison slouched her body further into the couch wishing she could disappear. She was drowning. Prolonged conversation with Bizzy and The Captain always left her on the precipice of insanity. Where the hell was Archer?

"Addison, why don't we head up stairs. I'd love to see the dress you're wearing tonight." Bizzy said as she stood and adjusted her skirt.

Addison didn't respond with words, she simply followed her mother's lead. They made their way through long corridors adorned with antique decor and headed up the center hall staircase that branched off in both directions.

Bizzy sat on the bench at the foot of Addison's king-sized sleigh bed as Addison entered the walk-in closet (one of the servants had removed the dress from its bag and hung it up) to retrieve her dress. Addison gently placed the black, sleeveless, knee length, cowl neck dress across the bed and placed her hand on her hip as she waited for her mother to comment.

Bizzy squinted her eyes as she began studying the dress. She ran her hand across the top draping and slowly rubbed the silky fabric between her fingers.

"Try it on." She instructed as she picked up the dress and held it towards her daughter.

Addison sighed and removed her blouse and skirt before she stepped into the dress and slid it up her statuesque form. Bizzy stood and zipped it up then backed away from Addison. She instructed her to turn around as she viewed the dress from various angles. Bizzy assessed the length, fit and a plethora of other details she deemed important. Bizzy unzipped the dress, returned to her seat on the bench, placed her hands in her lap and interlocked her fingers.

"It should do." she said.

Addison re-dressed and returned the garment to the closet.

"Sit." Bizzy said as she patted the empty spot beside her.

Addison reluctantly sat on the bench and crossed her legs at the ankles. Alone time with her mother never reaped positive results.

Bizzy turned her body slightly so she was face to face with her daughter. "You never answered my question." she reminded her.

"What question?" Addison said in a tight voice as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Addison, don't play coy with me." Bizzy replied sternly.

"Bizzy, I– "

"Will I be planning another wedding so– "

"Bizzy– "

"Addison, do not interrupt me when I am speaking!" Bizzy scolded, looking at her daughter disapprovingly.

Addison folded her arms across her chest and pressed her lips together tightly. Beatrice was insufferable.

"As I was saying," Bizzy started. "Your next suitor will be someone worthy of marrying a Forbes Montgomery." Bizzy had always wanted Addison to marry someone of equal social standing.

"You're not getting any younger. I know a– "

"Bizzy." A male voice interrupted.

Addison and Bizzy simultaneously turned around. A feeling of relief washed over Addison as her eyes settled on her brother standing in the doorway. Archer gave Addison an apologetic smile as he walked into the room.

"Archer," Bizzy said coolly. "I thought I requested your presence before noon."

Archer stood in front of his mother and shrugged. "I'm here now." He replied nonchalantly. He had always been more of a rebel than Addison.

Bizzy turned to face Addison. "We'll finish this conversation later." she said with certainty.

She stood and headed towards the door. "I expect to see both of you downstairs shortly." she stated before exiting the room and heading down the hall.

Addison walked towards the side of the bed and threw her body onto the mattress. Archer took in his sister's distraught appearance and shook his head sympathetically.

"What was that about?" He asked after sitting beside her.

Addison sank her head further into the pillows and sighed in exasperation. "Bizzy's trying to marry me off," she mumbled."I don't even know why she cares, or why she's pretending to care..."

Archer began to laugh and Addison pulled a pillow from underneath her head and swatted him with it. "It's not funny," she said as she glared at him. "And what the hell took you so long? I thought you bailed on me!"

Archer raised his eyebrow suggestively. "I ran into this woman at the airport and– "

Addison raised her hands in protest. "Stop! Don't say anything else. I get it."

Archer smirked and sat upright, leaning his body against the headboard as Addison reached over to the bedside table and grasped her ringing cellphone.

"Hey." She said, after answering.

"Yeah, about two hours ago."

"Noooo," she said, shaking her head vigorously. "I head back first thing tomorrow morning. I refuse to spend any extra time here."

Addison rolled onto her stomach and perched herself on her elbows as she continued her conversation. Archer looked over at his sister and mouthed 'Who is that?' Addison mouthed 'Derek' and Archer's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Why are you talking to Derek?" He asked gruffly. Addison held up her index finger indicating she wanted him to wait until she was finished.

"Derek of course I remember." She said softly.

Addison got out of bed, headed to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Archer's eyes burned holes through the mahogany door. One, of few things he had in common with his mother was their mutual dislike for Derek Shepherd. Archer got out of the bed and paced the room as he waited for Addison to return. He had always been protective of his little sister. When they were younger, boys were afraid to pursue Addison because they knew they would have to answer to Archer. She would try to convince him to back off, but he never relented.

A few minutes later (Archer probably considered it a few hours) Addison emerged from the bathroom and returned to her spot on the bed.

"What do you wanna know?" she asked as she placed a pillow in her lap.

" _Derek_ , you talk to _Derek,_ Addison." He said, looking at her disbelieving.

"Yes."

"Since..." he urged her to continue.

Addison shrugged. "I don't know, about two months ago. I ran into him at a conference in L.A and we stayed in touch afterwards."

"Weren't you in Seattle two weeks ago?" Archer asked accusingly as he leaned against the dresser.

"Yeah." She responded.

"Did you seem him?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.

Addison rolled her eyes at him. "Archer, he works at the hospital."

He sighed in frustration. "You know what I mean, Addison."

"I don't owe you an explanation." Addison replied, the annoyance clear in her voice.

"I'm just trying to make sense of this. I thought divorcing Derek meant he was out of your life for good. Why are you still talking to him? Is there something going on between you two?"

"Archer," Addison started. "Derek and I..." she paused and thought for a moment, running her hands across the pillow in her lap. "We're friends, that's it. There's nothing going on between us."

"You're _friends_...with your ex-husband?" Archer asked incredulously.

"It's not unheard-of." She reasoned.

Archer just sighed and looked at his sister in puzzlement.

He wasn't the first person to question Addison's relationship with Derek. Savvy, Sam, Weiss and Naomi all thought they were playing with fire despite Addison's continuous assurance that she and Derek were no more than friends.

* * *

"Addison, are you ready?" Bizzy asked as she entered Addison's room. "Your father and Archer are downstairs waiting for us."

"Yes, we can leave." She replied as she emerged from the bathroom.

Bizzy and Addison made their way to the foyer to meet The Captain and Archer.

"Addison, you look beautiful." The Captain complimented, smiling brightly.

Addison gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

Bizzy cleared her throat, reminding everyone of her presence.

"Bizzy, you look lovely." The Captain said. Bizzy pursed her lips, walked towards him and straightened his tie.

Archer looked at his sister in confusion and she shrugged in response. They never fully understood their parents; Bizzy and The Captain were rather complex people.

xxx

"Please act accordingly, do not do anything to embarrass me and do not forget to smile when we enter." Bizzy reminded her family as they prepared to enter the function hall. She had spent the entire drive to the hotel coaching them, yet she still felt the need to continue.

After entering, Addison and Archer headed straight to the bar and Bizzy and The Captain made their way towards a couple they knew. Addison glanced around the room and sipped on her martini as she and Archer conversed.

Bizzy excused herself from the couple and made her way towards her children with her husband following close behind.

"Archer, Addison..." she spoke through tight lips. "This is the cocktail hour, you're supposed to be socializing."

"We _are_ socializing...with each other." Archer replied matter-of-factly.

Bizzy disregarded Archer's comment and focused her attention on Addison. "Addison, come with me." she said with a tight smile.

Bizzy walked Addison across the room and stopped in front of a tall, blonde-haired man.

"Theodore,"Bizzy started. "This is my daughter, Addison." Bizzy made eye contact with Addison. "Addison, this is Theodore." The tone of her voice told Addison, 'This is the man I was telling you about earlier.'

Theodore smiled broadly and extended his hand towards Addison's. "Addison, it's nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Theodore." She said, trying to hide her discomfort.

"I'll let you two get acquainted." Bizzy said in a honeyed voice before walking away.

xxx

Addison made the conversation with Theodore brief and excused herself as politely as possible. Bizzy, of course, was dissatisfied. She expected her daughter to be more enthusiastic about Theodore. The tension between Addison and Bizzy was palpable when they settled at their table for dinner. Addison poked at the untouched salmon on her plate with her fork while Bizzy sat stock still with her eyes fixated on the drink in front of her. After about thirty minutes, the emcee approached the podium and introduced the presenter.

Archer leaned over and whispered to Addison, "Isn't that Cynthia?" Addison followed his gaze to a table across the room.

Addison leaned closer to her brother and whispered, "Yeah. Didn't she marry Jo-"

"Sit up straight, Addison." Bizzy said icily. "You're not disabled."

Addison was about to make a snide remark, but the presenter finished his speech and it was time to present Bizzy with her award. Bizzy shifted moods quickly and plastered a broad smile on her face as she walked to the front of the room to accept her plaque.

"Did she just say that she's 'humbled to receive such an honor'." Archer whispered to Addison.

"Yeah," Addison said as she nodded her head slowly. "She only said that so she doesn't come across as arrogant."

After Bizzy concluded her acceptance speech, the Captain stood and applauded like the perfect husband he pretended to be. He walked over to her and guided her around the room with his hand on the lower part of her back as she accepted offers of 'congratulations'.

"They sure know how to fake it." Archer stated, looking at his parents.

"Yeah, always have."

Archer turned to face Addison. "Let's get out of here." he suggested.

Addison didn't hesitate after Archer's suggestion. She swiftly got out of her chair and backed away from the table. She had had enough of her mother's antics.

"I didn't think you'd be this eager to leave." Archer chuckled as he stood and walked to the opposite side of the table.

She gave him a small smile. "It's been a long day, I just wanna go."

* * *

Addison sat in bed flipping through the pages of the medical journal in her lap. She had returned from Connecticut that morning and she hadn't left the house since she had arrived – she wasn't needed at the practice. Savvy had called a few hours ago to find out how her brief trip to Connecticut went. Addison had mainly told her about the argument she had had with her mother. Bizzy was unreasonably upset that Archer and Addison left the event without her. Bizzy had ended up blowing things out of proportion and she had told Addison that she was a disappointment among other malevolent phrases. Addison had left the estate and she had stayed at a hotel until it was time for her flight. Addison always did whatever she could to earn her mother's approval, but her efforts were always fruitless – Bizzy constantly found a way to make her feel inadequate.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted her reading, so Addison set the book aside. She had not been expecting anyone, but she figured it may have been Sam or Naomi. She walked over to a drawer, pulled out a pair of sweatpants, put them on then quickly made her way down stairs. Her jaw slackened in surprise when she saw the person standing in front of her door.


	8. An Unexpected Visitor

"Derek?" She questioned, unsure whether or not she was imagining her ex-husband standing in front of her.

"Addison?" He mocked.

'Well it's definitely him', she mused. Addison leaned against the door frame as she took in the scene before her. Stone washed jeans, indigo button-down shirt, chestnut boat shoes, small, black duffle bag in hand – wait, why was he carrying a duffle bag?

"Derek, what are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood." He replied with a half-smile.

She sighed, unamused by his wit. "You were in the neighborhood? Derek, Seattle is 1,136 miles away." Addison bit her bottom lip after realizing what she said.

"How do you know that?" He asked, raising his eyebrow suspiciously.

She wasn't about to tell him she had googled it because she had wanted to know how much distance was between them; the farther away he was the easier it was to move on. So she went with, "I know a lot of things, Derek. But that's beside the point. What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?"

"Richard told me to take some time off, so I decided to visit you, and Sam gave me the address."

Addison just stared at him intently. _Why did Richard tell him to take time off, and why did he come here? He could have gone anywhere else if he wanted to get away from Seattle. Why did he want to see me?_

"So, are you gonna let me in?" Derek asked, pulling Addison from her thoughts.

"No." She said firmly. Addison smirked as she registered the look of shock on his face.

"So you're going to leave me outside...in the street?" Derek said dramatically.

"Derek, you have two-million-dollars-a-year hands, I'm sure you can afford a hotel."

"Addie..." Derek said, as he looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Fine." She relented and stepped aside to allow him entry. "Get in."

Derek entered and followed her as she led him upstairs.

"This is the guestroom." She said as she ushered him into the room. "You can sleep in here."

He set his bag on the floor and gave her a small smile. "Thank you."

Silence.

She watched as he began to slowly unpack.

"You know, people usually call before they hop on a plane and show up at your front door." Addison began. "We spoke yesterday, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I, uh, wasn't even sure I was coming...it sort of happened." He stammered.

Addison raised her eyebrow skeptically. "You weren't sure you were coming?"

Derek sighed. "I know I shouldn't have simply shown up." He said, trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm sorry."

Addison nodded although she was unconvinced. "I'll let you get settled." She said as she headed towards the door. "I'll be downstairs if you need something." She walked through the door and closed it behind her.

Addison made a brief stop in her bedroom to retrieve the medical journal she had been reading before heading to the living room. She sat on the couch, folded her legs, set the book on her lap, and made no effort to rifle through the pages. She was still completely perplexed by her current situation – her ex-husband had shown up to her house in the middle of the night.

Why was she bothered? They had frequent conversations, they had spent time together (whether it had been alone or with other people) when she had returned to Seattle and the first time he came to L.A. What was the problem? Well, _this_ – Derek taking it upon himself to shorten the distance between them, showing up unannounced, staying in her guestroom – was completely different.

Upon hearing the sound of feet padding across the hardwood floor, she set the book on the end table and turned her head to face the source.

"Do you need something?" She asked as he neared her.

"No, I uh, just wanted some company." Derek said as he sat on the opposite end of the couch.

"Oh..." She replied softly, still unable to shake the awkward feeling that interfered with the ease of conversation.

Silence.

They stared at each other for a moment before Derek broke the ice.

"This is a nice place." He said as his eyes roamed about.

"Thanks." She said with a small smile.

"I can tell you decorated, it's very Addison. I like it, it's simple...elegant."

Addison's smile grew wider. "I actually asked Naomi to help with decorating when I first moved in, but I kept vetoing every idea she came up with. She was so mad at me." she grinned.

"I know what that's like," He started. "You vetoed all of my ideas when we were decorating the Brownstone." he chuckled. "And speaking of people you've upset," Derek continued. "Richard still hasn't found a replacement, I don't even think he's looking. I tried to help by giving him a few suggestions, but he kept making up excuses not to hire them."

Addison shook her head and smiled at her ex-husband. "He gave me his blessing before I left, but now I'm starting to think he didn't mean it."

Derek half-smiled. "He knew he wouldn't have been able to stop you when you told him you were leaving...he'd get rid of me just to have you back." He chuckled.

"No, he wouldn't." Addison said as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "You're his golden boy." She teased.

"He would." Derek insisted. "Whenever I do something that irritates him, he always reminds me that you're his favorite. He said he would give me up if it meant having you."

Addison laughed. "Well he always did– " Addison started, but she was cut off by the voracious growling of her stomach.

"You're hungry." Derek grinned.

Addison's cheeks flushed red.

"I can make you something." Derek suggested as he stood and headed towards her kitchen.

"No, Derek, you don't have to." She said, trying to stop him as he neared the fridge. "I can order takeout."

Derek ignored her protests and opened the fridge. He shook his head in amusement as he observed its contents: water, and bottles of some strange drink—nothing conducive to preparing a decent meal. Addison rarely went grocery shopping. When they were married, Derek would go each week and sometimes he convinced her to go with him.

Derek turned to face Addison who was now leaning against the kitchen counter. "I should have known there wouldn't be anything in here. You never buy food."

"I grocery shop." Addison said defensively. "Just...not often."

"At least we won't dehydrate." Derek joked, holding up a bottle of water.

Addison laughed as she moved from behind the counter.

"I'll order something." She said as she opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a takeout menu. "Is Chinese okay?"

"Yeah." he replied. He closed the fridge, headed back into the living area and returned to his seat.

Once Addison had finished placing the order, she joined him on the soft, light blue couch. The pair conversed as they waited for their food to arrive. Addison barely listened to Derek as he spoke. She was back to trying to figure out what prompted her ex-husband's visit. She knew there had to be a definitive reason why Derek decided to come. But what was it?

"When do you leave?" She asked.

"I'm here until Monday."

"Monday!" Addison gasped in surprise. If he was leaving Monday that meant he would be spending the next three days in L.A – in her house.

"I can find a hotel tomorrow." Derek offered quickly.

Addison sighed. "You can stay... I mean, you're already settled in the guestroom so..." Addison's voice trailed off. "It's just...I wasn't expecting you."

"I know me being here unannounced is not fair to you, you have every right to ask me to leave. But you didn't..." Derek said softly. "Thanks for letting me stay."

Addison slowly nodded her head as he spoke. She considered mentioning that they needed to establish some boundaries, but decided they could have that conversation another day.

"That's probably the delivery guy." Addison said to Derek after the doorbell rang.

She opened the front door, received a white paper bag from the stout, round faced delivery man, and set the bag on the kitchen table after she paid. Derek, who was now sat at the table, watched as Addison removed the food from the bag. His eyes momentarily glistened as he unveiled the contents of his container; apparently Addison wasn't the only hungry one.

"What are you eating? That's not what you usually get." He said to Addison, temporarily ceasing his assault on his dumplings.

"It's Chicken Lo mein" She informed. "Charlotte...you remember Charlotte, right? I told you about her a few weeks ago." Derek nodded his head affirmatively. "Well, she ordered this a few months ago, and I loved it. So I've been ordering it ever since."

"Oh..." Derek said in surprise. "It doesn't seem like the kind of thing you'd like."

Addison smiled. "I didn't think I'd like it at first either." She pushed the container towards him. "Try it. It's good, really good."

Derek twirled his chopsticks around the noodles and inserted them into his mouth.

"What's wrong?" Addison inquired after Derek's face contorted in disgust.

Derek forcibly swallowed before speaking. "That," he pointed to the bowl in front of him for emphasis "is awful!"

"You seriously don't like it?" She asked in disbelief.

Derek shook his head. "No, not at all. I don't know how you eat that."

Addison chuckled as she stood and walked behind the kitchen counter. "Wine?" She offered as she removed a glass from the cupboard.

"No, water is fine." Derek replied.

Addison poured herself a glass of wine and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge for Derek. She set their drinks on the table and they resumed eating.


	9. Absolution

**Friday:**

Addison incessantly knocked on the door of the guestroom, patiently waiting for her ex-husband to respond. Before she left for work she wanted to inform him of a few things she failed to mention the night before, although she and Derek had spent a considerable amount of time talking after dinner the previous night. In a few short minutes, the door slowly opened and revealed a groggy Derek, who made no effort to release the doorknob from his grasp. His wrinkly, grey t-shirt rode up slightly; revealing the toned skin above his waist as he stretched his free arm above his head.

"Morning." Addison said sheepishly.

Derek looked at her through half-opened, sleep-filled eyes as he ran a hand through his mess of thick, dark hair.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." She cleared her throat before she continued. "I, uh, I'm going to work and I'm not sure when I'll be back, so I just wanted to say a few things before I left."

"I already fed Ginger so you don't have to worry about her this morning. I usually feed her twice, morning and night, so since you're here; if I'm not back before dark — which is probably sometime after 7, you can feed her — don't feed her before then." She rambled. "Her food is in the cabinet beside the kitchen sink." She paused momentarily as she watched Derek slip a hand underneath his shirt causing it to ride up further. "Um, If you, uh, go out on the deck it's okay to let her out, she won't go far if someone is out there with her, but make sure you let her back in when you go inside, otherwise she'll wander along the beach. Um, there's a key in the kitchen drawer by the fridge; make sure you lock up if you decide to go somewhere. So, yeah...that's about it. I'll, uh, see you when I get back." She turned on her heel and began to walk down the hall.

Derek, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke. "Addie." He called out in a husky voice.

Addison stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"Morning." He said with a lazy smile.

Addison smiled softly then continued down the hall. Pushing all thoughts of her ex-husband aside, she made the thirty minute drive to the practice. Upon arriving, she made a brief stop in her office to drop off her purse then headed to the kitchen. Addison poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the wooden table in the center of the room. Her first appointment was scheduled for 9am, so instead of waiting in her office, she opted for hanging out in the kitchen.

A while later, Naomi entered the kitchen, approached the coffee pot on the counter, filled a mug with the steaming, black liquid, and joined her friend at the table. Naomi sipped at her coffee while staring at Addison intently from across the table.

"Nae, what is it?" Addison said after a few minutes, no longer able to ignore Naomi's intense gaze.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Naomi said in a low voice while raising an eyebrow.

Addison immediately caught on and said, "No."

"Addie..." Naomi whined as her body slouched into her chair.

Addison sighed. "Did Sam tell you?"

"No, last night, I uh, saw him through the window." Naomi said guiltily. Addison opened her mouth to respond, but Naomi quickly continued, "Why did you tell Sam before you told me?"

"I didn't tell Sam." Addison started. "He knew Derek was coming before I did. Derek asked him for the address and—"

"Why didn't he just ask you?" Naomi asked as her face contorted in confusion.

"Nae, I don't know. Maybe he thought I wouldn't give it to him or maybe he, maybe..." Addison threw her arms up in exasperation. "I don't know, Nae. Men, they...they just do stupid things."

"Like show up to their ex-wife's house out of the blue." Naomi mumbled.

"Yeah." Addison agreed

"How long is he staying?" Naomi asked after a moment of silence.

"He leaves Monday."

"He's there for the _entire_ weekend." Naomi grinned.

Addison rolled her eyes at Naomi. "I know what you're thinking."

"I didn't say anything." Naomi said, slowly shaking her head as she tried to stifle a laugh.

"You didn't have to...Nothing is going to happen." Addison confirmed.

"I never said something would happen." Naomi chuckled.

"But you were thinking it." Addison replied, looking at her friend pointedly.

Naomi shrugged.

Addison pushed out her chair and stood.

"Where are you going?" Naomi asked as Addison began to walk away.

"Patient." Addison replied without turning around.

"You can't leave yet." Naomi said as she walked after her. "I have so many more questions."

xxx

Derek took full advantage of being able to sleep in without interruption. Thus, he slept until noon. When he awoke, he went down to Addison's kitchen. He observed the empty coffee pot and rummaged through the cupboards in search of coffee. He opened the cabinet beside the kitchen sink and just as Addison had informed, it contained Ginger's food. Only Derek didn't expect to see many, many, _many_ cans of cat food neatly stacked on top of each other. He smiled at the sight; Addison made sure Ginger always had food, yet she failed to stock the cupboards for herself. He looked over at Ginger who was frozen in front of the refrigerator, watching him intently.

"You hungry, Ginger?" Derek asked the cat in a melodic voice.

Ginger remained still, refusing to move a whisker as she continued to stare at the stranger in front of her.

Derek removed a can from the cupboard and pulled off the top. Going against Addison's instructions, he placed the can in front of Ginger. Her head immediately engaged with the can and her traitorous tongue began to rid it of its contents.

Abandoning his initial search for coffee, Derek left the kitchen and headed back to the guestroom. Since Addison would be gone most of the day, Derek thought about what he could do to help out—a gesture of gratitude. Addison's home was immaculate, so cleaning was definitely unnecessary. Recollecting the events of the previous night, he settled on going to the grocery store and making dinner for his ex-wife. Derek quickly showered, got dressed, and returned downstairs. There was only one problem with his plan — transportation. He stepped outside to see if Sam or Naomi's car was parked in their driveway — both were gone. Derek went with the next thought that came to mind: cab service. He removed the cordless phone from its receiver and held it in his hand as he flipped through the phone book.

Fifteen minutes after requesting a taxi, a sleek, black Lincoln Continental pulled up in front of the beach house. Derek quickly made his way back into the kitchen and grabbed the key from the drawer.

"Do whatever you normally do when Addison is gone." Derek said to Ginger as he neared the front door. "I'll be back soon."

xxx

Addison sighed in relief after pressing the red seat belt button, releasing her body from the confines of the grey sling. She leaned sideways and removed her shoes from underneath the passenger seat. Not bothering to put them on, she scooped up her hand bag and exited the vehicle. When she opened the front door, the aromatic smell of thyme and rosemary immediately invaded her nostrils. Her lips curved into a small smile as she entered the kitchen; Derek's back was turned to her as he basted a chicken on the counter top.

"Hey." She said, making him aware of her presence.

Derek returned the chicken to the oven then turned to face her. "Hey," He smiled. "I was hoping you'd be back a little later, I'm not finished yet."

"You're making dinner."

"I'm making dinner." He confirmed.

"You didn't have to," Addison said, suddenly feeling the need to protest. "I didn't expect you to—" She stopped abruptly as her eyes roamed the kitchen. "To do this..." she gestured to the food on the stove "you had to go to the store and...and that must have been a hassle because you don't—"

"Addison." Derek said firmly enough to silence her. She always tended to overreact.

"It's fine. It wasn't a hassle, I didn't go through any trouble. I wanted to do something for you, think of this as my formal way of saying thank you for letting me stay here...besides, I know how much you like my chicken." He finished with a smile.

Addison returned his smile. "Do you need help with anything?" She asked.

"No. There's not much left to do. You can put those up," He used his eyes to gesture to the shoes and bag in Addison's hand. "and do whatever else you have to do, and when you get back, you can tell me about your day."

"Are you sure you don't need any help? I can—"

"Addie, I'm almost finished." He confirmed once again.

"Okay." She said as she reluctantly made towards the stairs.

Derek approached the wine rack and searched for a bottle of Pinot Noir — he knew Addison would have it, considering she was a prolific wine drinker. He removed the bottle from its slot and set it on the counter top. A few minutes later, Addison returned and sat on a stool behind the counter. As she watched her ex-husband expertly chop and sauté vegetables, Addison tried to pinpoint the last time she had seen him in that setting. Technically, it was the time he had caught a trout and brought it to the trailer, but she discounted that, so it must have been sometime in New York. She reached down and picked up Ginger who had been circling the stool since she sat. Addison ran her hand slowly across Ginger's back ruffling the tabby's white fur each time she pat in the opposite direction.

"Did you feed her?" She asked Derek, then took a sip of the wine that he had poured her.

"Just before you came." He responded, which was true, only he conveniently left out the part about feeding Ginger two other times earlier that day.

He listened as she went on about her day at the practice and he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes lit up when she spoke. He knew it wasn't simply about the work — Addison had always loved her job. It was attributed to rediscovering a sense of belonging.

"They're for you, they were selling them at the store. I chose that one because it reminded me of you." He said, noticing that her eyes wandered to the bouquet of flowers on the end of the counter.

Addison smiled and responded with a soft 'thank you'. Given her newly found information, she took another look at the bouquet seemingly trying to figure out what about those flowers reminded him of her. The bouquet was composed of a mix of Roses, Gerbera Daisies, Bells of Ireland and Stargazer Lilies. Most of the flowers were different shades of pink — most certainty not her color, and she had never been a fan of medley bouquets, but she couldn't deny that the one he had chosen was beautiful. She entered the kitchen to retrieve the necessary dinnerware to set the table after Derek informed her that their meal was done. As they sat and ate, Addison allowed pessimism to creep in; she wondered if it would last — how long their semblance of a friendship could last before one of them did something to drive the other away?

* * *

**Saturday:**

"Cinderella Man?" Derek said as he joined Addison on the couch.

Addison gave him a quick glance. "Yeah."

"You've seen this a thousand times."

She shrugged, disregarding his exaggeration, eyes glued to the TV.

"I still don't understand why you like this movie so much. I've seen it a few times, but that's only because of you. I don't think it's that great. I mean, it's not like—"

"Derek! Shut up!" Addison chided, momentarily looking away from the screen to meet her ex-husband's eyes. "If you're going to talk go back upstairs!"

"Okay." Derek responded with a chuckle, raising his hands in surrender; he knew better than interrupt Addison in the middle of a Russell Crowe film.

Instead of watching the movie, Derek watched Addison watch the movie. The only sound between them were the voices of Russell Crowe and Renée Zellweger emitted by the TV. He observed the way her head leaned a little closer to the screen whenever there was a close up of James (Russell's character), the way her eyes flickered and lips curved into a smile when Mae (James' wife/Renée's character) embraced her husband and kissed him passionately, and the way she winced every time James took a hit while boxing. Ignoring Addison's previous request for silence, Derek asked the question that had been plaguing his thoughts.

"Where's Matthew?"

Addison's mouth fell slightly open as she looked at her ex-husband, taken aback by his sudden question. "He, uh, why?" She stammered.

Derek shrugged. "I was just wondering. You're home tonight and I just assumed that you'd be with him and—"

"Derek, why does it matter?" She interrupted, trying to figure out where he was headed.

"It doesn't. It's just..." Derek's voice trailed off. "You don't talk about him."

Addison sighed. "Derek, why would I talk about him with you? You're my ex-husband."

"That's not why." Derek disagreed, shaking his head. "When I was dating Rose, I mentioned her a few times when we spoke. You, well you never mention anything about Matthew, except for that time we had lunch at that café." Derek readjusted his position on the couch as he remembered they way he reacted the first time Addison mentioned Matthew.

"Derek," Addison started. "Just because you're willing to discuss something doesn't mean I have to."

"Fair enough." Derek conceded, not wanting to press her any further.

They fell silent and Derek directed his attention to the TV. Addison watched Derek watch the movie as her mind drifted to the conversation she had had with Naomi over a week ago.

_"So what exactly are you saying." Naomi asked Addison, who was lying on the couch in her office._

_"I'm saying that I'm going to tell him we shouldn't see each other anymore."_

_"Did you have sex with him?" Naomi asked._

_"Nae! You just asked me that, I already told you the answer."_

_"I know." Naomi chuckled. "But I thought you only said that because you wanted to keep all the juicy details to yourself."_

_"Well it's not that I didn't want to." Addison said as she sat upright. "He's so..." She let out an animalistic groan unable to find words that would accurately describe Matthew. "I don't know how I kept my legs crossed." She said, more to herself than to Naomi._

_"I almost gave in a couple of days ago."_

_"And?" Naomi urged. "What happened?"_

_"We were on the couch kissing, things got a little too heated, his hands started to roam places, so I pushed him off me before it got out of hand." She explained, sighing dramatically and flopping her body back onto the couch._

_"Matthew's the kind of guy..." Addison paused to rethink her words. "He's not the kind of man I can have meaningless sex with; he wants a serious relationship with me and if I took the next step then he'd think it means something more, and Nae, I can't do that to him, I can't lead him on." Addison sighed._

_"I don't want to be someone who pretends to be equally invested in a relationship. I can't be that person." She said softly. "Matthew is a great guy and he deserves to be with someone who's willing to invest the same as he is."_

_"But he did say he was willing to wait until you're ready for a serious relationship." Naomi reminded her._

_"I know, but I don't want him to. He knows exactly what he wants and me, well I have a lot of reservations about making a serious commitment to him."_

"Addie." Derek said, cutting into her thoughts, after the TV displayed the closing credits.

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted."

"I was just thinking." She admitted.

Derek offered her a small smile.

"Here," She said, handing him the remote. "You can pick the next movie."

* * *

**Sunday:**

"Hey." Derek said softly as he approached Addison who was lying in a lounge chair on the beach.

"Hey." Addison responded in surprise, averting her eyes from the ocean to meet her ex-husband's.

"I noticed the door was open when I came downstairs, I spotted you from the deck." Derek explained, knowing she was wondering how he knew she was out there. "You're up early."

"Yeah." She replied. "It's peaceful out here, especially early in the morning...Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep." Derek responded. "Mind if I join you?"

"No, sit." She said, indicating the chair beside her.

Derek smiled at his ex-wife as he adjusted the lounge chair.

They lay there for several minutes in quiet anticipation, both occasionally deeply inhaling the fresh smell of salt water and ignoring the chill of the early morning air. When the first few orange hued rays of light bled into the wispy clouds, Derek looked over at Addison and allowed his voice to delicately cut through the silence.

"Last Friday," Derek began softly. At the sound of his voice, Addison turned on her side to face him. "There was a multi-car collision and most of the people were sent to Seattle Grace. Two of them were my patients; Karen Reichs, she had a severe Subdural Hematoma and I was able to alleviate the pressure on her brain, so far, it doesn't seem like she incurred any long term brain damage, but my other patient, Mr. Novak..." Derek paused. "By the time he arrived, there wasn't much I could do." He continued. "The injuries he sustained caused total cessation of all brain function. His wife insists on keeping him on life support."

Addison remained silent and occasionally nodded her head to ensure Derek she was listening as he spoke.

"She sits at his side holding his hand every day hoping he'll wake up. He also has kids—two sons. Sometimes she brings them by and they all sit around his bed, like they're waiting for him to open his eyes." Derek said softly.

"I tried to remain detached, and I was doing okay, but as the days went on..." Derek's voice trailed off. "I kept thinking about how they must have been feeling, especially the kids. I know what it's like to lose a parent at a young age." He whispered.

Addison sat upright as she took in her ex-husband's sad eyes.

"I spent a lot of time thinking and..." He cleared his throat. "There were a lot of things I couldn't get off my mind..." Derek paused, sat upright and studied the sky. The golden light softly caressed the pale blue background while soothing lavender and brilliant amber slowly merged with streaks of pink and red as the sun began to peak out above the horizon. Returning his attention to Addison, he said, "I wasn't there for you. I stopped showing you that I—"

Addison broke their gaze and ran her fingers through her hair. "Derek, please don't b—"

"Just let me finish," Derek cut in gently. "Richard didn't tell me to take time off, I asked him for a few days off because I wanted to come here. I didn't want to say this over the phone, I wanted to say it in person."

Derek inhaled deeply. "I was indifferent," He began. "When we were married, I stopped devoting the time and attention to our relationship that you deserved. I disappointed you, probably in more ways than I can imagine. I took you for granted in New York and I did the same thing in Seattle." He paused briefly, eyes still locked with Addison's, who looked as though she was holding her breath.

"I was selfish, dishonest, and I was ignorant to you and your feelings. I pushed you away, and I made you feel like a burden...I made you believe I didn't love you. I was wrong in so many ways during the course of our relationship. I can't begin to express the amount of remorse I have toward the way I treated you; you didn't deserve any of it. I know I've made some pretty serious mistakes and I know that I've hurt you deeply; there's no excuse for anything that I did," He confessed, his voice laced with emotion. "I apologize unreservedly for all the times I hurt you, I am so sorry."

Addison swallowed thickly as she blinked back tears and allowed Derek's words to sink in. "Derek, I already forgave you." She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know you did, that's not why I apologized." He admitted. "You deserve an apology and I wanted to apologize; I needed to own up to my part before I said this..." Derek's voice trailed off as he inhaled a shaky breath. "I forgive you. I don't know if it still matters to you, but I want to offer my forgiveness." He said vulnerably. "I care about you, Addison. And I don't want it to feel like there's a weight dangling over our heads. I don't think we would really be able to establish a healthy friendship if..."

"If what happened in the past was still lingering between us." Addison added, finishing Derek's thought.

"Yeah." Derek breathed. "Honestly, the past two months, being able to talk to you...has been great."

"It has." Addison agreed softly.

"And I don't want anything to mess it up."He added.

Addison smiled in silent agreement.

Derek extended his hand and placed it over Addison's. She smiled at him softly, breathing lightly as she tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart. Neither of them spoke for a while, words seemingly redundant.

Though still low in the sky, the early morning sun gently warmed their skin, simultaneously giving everything around them a warm glow.


	10. Alteration

After the incident last described, the intercourse between Addison and Derek, though externally the same, was really of another character than it had previously been.

About two weeks after Derek returned to Seattle, the shift between us became rather difficult to ignore. Some days, there's an air of effortlessness that I can't quite describe, but I allow it to fill me with jubilation.

I look forward to the days when there is clarity during the instances where his intentions are as vivid as sunlight and conversation comes as easy as inhaling and exhaling. But just as quickly as I can blink an eye, that clarity would be obscured when something is said (during what could have been a lighthearted conversation) that extinguishes our flaming divorce papers, which results in fear.

Fear. I think we both fear falling—tumbling over a heap of reality and landing in a puddle of 'yes, it was too good to be true.' Derek says things (okay, sometimes I do too) that make it easy to forget that those divorce papers are there for a reason. There are instances where we fall back into the role of Derek-and-Addison with such ease and that startles me. He allows himself to ask the questions he no longer has the right to know, and although I want to scream 'Derek, what are you doing?' I answer, because he's Derek, and I'm Addison (not so plain and simple, but true). Then, there are days where reaching out to Derek feels forbidden. It's during those days that my fear is transformed into anger.

Anger. I'm angry that Derek is miles away yet I feel closer to him now than I did in the latter part of our marriage. I _loathe_ the distance. It's not doing its job. It's supposed to help me move on, help _us_ move on. I wish I could damn those 1,136 miles to hell. Instead of keeping us apart, it's aiding and abetting reassembling us. It's almost impossible not to laugh at the irony of the situation.

In the midst of the complexity of Addison and Derek's lives, the rising of the sun, a devious gust of wind, and the blooming of resonant flowers, ushered in a day that encompassed a multitude of emotions that viciously wrapped a florescent white ribbon around their necks and strangled every memory of the past 13 years out of them: May 15th, their wedding anniversary.

"Hey." I say, releasing a breath that seems to contain the weight of the world.

We did not speak this morning or afternoon. Throughout the day, I spent a fair amount of time playing a classic round of the blame game (with myself). Unfortunately, I'm not a supernatural being that can instantly relieve myself of all feelings of guilt, hurt, sadness or regret that came with today. When the unceremonious sunlight of May 15th faded and brought in the gentleness of the moonlight that seemed to make the significance of today less intense, I shakily dialed her number.

"Hey." She replies, her sigh echoing mine.

They remained silent for a moment, neither willing to admit that they were feeling particularly nostalgic. He didn't know that she was sitting on the floor in her living room flipping through their wedding album, and she didn't know he was sitting on the bed in his trailer caressing the watch she bought him on their 10th anniversary. It's broken, it encountered a wall during a fit of rage (he never bothered to get it fixed).

Their 'hey' lingered for what felt like hours, neither knew what to say.

"How was work." I ask lamely, starting with the mundane seems like the safest route.

She answers readily, I guess she knows the question is intended to buy us time. Time to sort the plethora of memories whirling around our heads. Time to prepare answers for the inevitable questions that are going to be asked. Time to control the feelings that refuse to remain at bay.

Several minutes were spent evading the topic of their anniversary, marriage or anything remotely similar. Addison closed the album and carried it with her to her bedroom, plopped down on her bed and placed it securely beside her. She had studied each picture in it several times that day and she intended to do it again—after all, she had an excuse. When they had run out of all the trivial things that could possibly be said, there was a pregnant pause before they finally allowed themselves to fall victim to reminiscing.

"Remember what we did on our 5th anniversary?" I ask her softly.

"Of course I do." She whispers. "It was perfect."

"Yeah...it was." I confirm, trying to keep my tone evenly modulated. I close my eyes and allow the memories of that day to sweep over me. My lips curve into a faint smile as I recall a particular mountain top chalet with a breathtaking view, a fireplace, and a ridiculously big bed with impeccable sheets.

Consequently, the chest that held their hoard of memories sprang open and they went on to mention picnicking atop sun-dappled hillsides, winding through fragrant vineyards, and getting lost on back roads of Napa Valley. They danced through the vivid memories that warmed the day (and night) that had been inexplicably cold. Addison was impressed that Derek remembered everything with the same precision she did, and Derek wondered if Addison was experiencing the same emotions and sensations he felt.

Recapturing so many experiences that Addison and I shared and created together is almost too much to handle. I make my way to the porch, inside the trailer suddenly feels too crowed. I sink down into a lawn chair and fix my eyes on the velvety night sky as she reminds me of the time I got us ballroom dance lessons (she requested). Addison was, and still is, the only person able to get me to dance in public. Thinking about the way things were, the way _we_ were, creates a dull ache in my chest and causes my eyes to mist over.

"What do you think we'd be doing right now...if we were still married." She asked, trying not to sniffle too loudly. She had attempted to answer that question herself that entire day and what she had come up with (that they would be in Seattle, in his trailer, with a cloud of enmity between them) was utterly depressing.

Addison didn't know that Derek had come up with the same response she did because instead of telling her his initial thought, he filled her ear with a response laced with such splendor that the tears she had been desperately trying to hold back sprang forth.

"You really think so?" She chocked out, allowing her tears to fall freely.

"Yeah." He breathed, as he swiped the moisture from his cheeks. "I do."

They both knew what he said was highly improbable, but neither was willing to admit it. The fantasy was much easier to swallow. As their conversation made its way into an ungodly hour, Addison realized that Derek had rebelliously crept his way out of the tiny box she had placed him in, leaving it to dissolve in the wake of his escape. So much for making her ex-husband petty and insignificant.

* * *

I'm sitting in a hospital room running my hands slowly across my skirt. It's weird how quickly things can change. My day started out as ordinary as I expected it to. I lounged around the practice all morning and most of the afternoon—I only had one patient, Mrs. Barnes, vaginal delivery. After that, I did a bit of paperwork then I went to St. Ambrose to perform a surgery: Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia (Charlotte is trying to woo me). As fate or whatever would have it, just as I was preparing to leave the hospital, I heard the most blood-curdling scream, and well, that's sort of how I ended up in this room.

_An outcry went peeling through the hospital and was beaten back from one end of the building to the other. Detecting the misery and terror it held; Addison and Charlotte stopped dead in their tracks, the sound had evidently startled them. Addison looked to Charlotte for an answer and the southern woman shrugged her equal ignorance. Interests piqued, they followed the sound of a shrill voice alternating between hysterical screams and yelling "No! No! No!" Addison's face flushed with concern when her eyes settled upon the tiny distressed figure kicking and flailing her limbs around. The doctor who stood before her seemed to watch in amazement. How could someone so tiny emit such a sinister sound?_

I'm not sure how long I've been in here, I'm waiting for Melanie to return. She didn't want to leave Emily alone in case she woke up, so I offered to stay until she came back. The fact that I'm in this room right now is actually kind of funny, considering I was hesitant about staying with Melanie while she waited for Emily to get out of surgery.

_"I'll show you to a waiting room." Addison offered. The young woman smiled appreciatively and mutely followed Addison's lead._

_When they entered the room, Addison waited until the woman was seated before she turned to leave._

_"Wait!" The woman called out, causing Addison to turn around. "Can, uh, can you wait with me?" Addison formed her lips to utter a response, but no words came out. "I'm sorry." The woman quickly backpedaled, sensing Addison's hesitance. "You're a doctor, I'm sure you have important things to do. You don't want to waste your time sitting here with me."_

_Addison sighed, feeling slightly guiltily. "I'll wait with you." She said, offering the woman a soft smile. "If I were in your position, I'd want someone to wait with me too."_

_"Thank you." She responded, returning Addison's smile._

_"I'm Addison." The redhead informed, as she took a seat._

_"Melanie." The brunette responded, shaking the hand Addison extended._

At first, I couldn't fully understand why Melanie was so flustered, but after we started talking, everything made sense. She admitted that Emily is her first unsupervised child welfare case. She was supposed to transfer her to a new foster home, but Emily kept crying and complaining of stomach pain so she brought her to the hospital. Turns out, Emily had appendicitis. Therefore, Melanie being a bit jumpy is quite justified.

I can't stop staring at Emily. Her tiny body is lying motionless in the hospital bed, with the exception of the steady rising and falling of her chest. Her mouth is slightly open, and her glossy brown hair is spread wildly across her pillow. It's almost strange seeing her this calm. A few hours ago, she was quite frantic.

_Each time a medical professional extended a hand in an attempt to examine her, Emily would shriek and violently hit and claw at any foreign limb that attempted to touch her. When the hand retracted, screams would transform into whimpers. The little girl's wide, hazel eyes pooled with tears that continuously fell and drowned the freckles painted across her cheeks. Her long, wavy, dark brown hair bounced in perfect synchrony with the shaking of her head._

I gently run my fingers over the scratches on my right arm. I sigh remembering how they got there. Charlotte would probably find it amusing, it happened right after she left.

_"Montgomery, you comin' ?" Charlotte asked, reminding Addison they were about to leave before they were distracted by the tiny human. Charlotte left, Addison stayed; too intrigued by the scene to abandon it. In an effort to assist with calming the child, Addison offered a soft 'hey sweetie it's okay.' and a 'These nice doctors are trying to help you.' She extended a well manicured hand towards the frightened child's head and was met with the same fate as the nurse: tiny fingers clawing into the delicate flesh of her forearm. Addison winced and assessed her arm; she momentarily regretted not leaving with Charlotte as blood crept to the surface of her porcelain skin._

Just as I attempt to check my cellphone for the time, Melanie walks into the room.

"Addison." She says softly.

I raise my head to face her, she's standing in the doorway. She looks exhausted.

"I'm sorry I took so long." She sighs.

I stand and walk towards her so that I am standing directly in front of her. "It's fine." I say with a small smile. "Did you complete everything you needed to?"

"Yeah," She answers. "Thank you so much, you really made today a little easier for me."

"You're welcome." I respond, although I really don't feel like I did anything.

We say somewhat awkward 'goodbyes', and I make my way out of the hospital. I don't say this to Melanie, but I intend to come back to check on Emily tomorrow.


	11. Mother Knows Best

Derek knew that she did not believe any of his declarations regarding life in Seattle. Derek knew that she assumed he simply told her what she wanted to hear. And Derek undoubtedly knew that seeing something with her own eyes always outweighed hearing about it, even if the information came from a primary source.

But knowing all these things, and being evidently aware of how she operated, did nothing to lessen the shock of her presence. When he instructed the person knocking on his office door to enter, she was certainly not who he expected to see.

"Derek." She said, eyes bright, lips curved into a smile, yet still appearing quite stern.

She made her way to the centre of the room and stared at him intently.

Derek removed his body from the chair behind his desk, made his way to her, and cleared his throat.

"Mom," He said, voice doing nothing to conceal the fact that he was stupefied. He embraced her then went on, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Carolyn began, "I wanted to see how you were doing out here," she narrowed her eyes at her son "really doing. I want to talk to you and actually be able to see your face," she used her hand to brush his ever-growing hair off his forehead, "I just want to spend some time with you," she cupped his face with her hands, "Is that too much to ask?"

"No," Derek conceded, his eyes scanning her chambray blouse and blue jeans clad form, "But I have a surgery soon, so whatever you have in mind will have to wait." Carolyn eyed him warily, and Derek chuckled, "Mom, I'm not just saying that to get rid of you."

"I know," Carolyn confirmed, "I didn't come here thinking you wouldn't be busy; I'm willing to wait."

Carolyn gave him her hotel information and instructed him to come see her tomorrow. Derek offered to accompany her to the ground floor, but she declined, urging him to resume whatever he had been doing before she showed up.

After Carolyn exited, Derek returned to the chair behind his desk, reached for his cell phone, and dialled the all-too-familiar number that dominated his call history.

"How are you—"

"I'm fine," She huffed, cutting him off before he was able to ask how she was feeling, "If you, or Sam, or Nae, or anyone else ask me that one more time I'm gonna explo..."

Derek tried to suppress a chuckle as the remainder of her tirade transformed into a fit of coughs.

"I'm fine," She repeated in an audible breath after recovering, "I don't have _the plague_. Though one would think I do, considering the way you've been acting."

"You're not very friendly when you're sick." He said teasingly.

"Having people hover me adds to my misery."

Derek's lips twitched into a smile; Addison was the only person he knew who was particularly opposed to being coddled when sick.

"Where are you?"

"In bed," She sighed, and Derek nodded his head in approval as though she could see him, "But I was at the practice earlier," She confessed, "I snuck into my office, and I was there for about ten minutes before Sam caught me and sent me home."

Derek shook his head in amusement. After listening to her rant about how unfair it was that she had to leave although she was perfectly capable of performing her job so there was really no reason she should have been treated like an invalid, Derek said, "So, guess who's in town to see me?"

"Nance is back!" She squealed, giddy with excitement.

"Oh God, no! And she better not be back anytime soon."

"Derek, you should really let that go. I mean, it's not like she meant to—"

"My mother's here." He stated, effectively cutting her off.

"Really? Took her long enough. How long is she staying?"

"Three days."

"Oh, well that's not bad..."

"Addie, seriously?"

"Okay, forget I said that. It's _your mother_ , you're probably in for the longest three days of your life."

"Yeah," Derek chuckled, "She wants to talk, which means I'll be doing all the listening. She's gonna tell me everything she approves or disapproves of—she probably has a speech prepared. She'll want to see the trailer, and I'm pretty sure whatever Nancy told her about it did me no favours. And although it's June, and she's already mentioned it several times, she's going to express her disappointment that I didn't visit last Christmas. She's probably gonna—" He stopped himself mid-sentence at the sound of Addison's laughter. "What?" He asked in mock vexation.

"Nothing," She said, which was followed by an audible series of sniffles, "I'm just imagining your mother's reaction to that wretched thing you call home."

"It happens to be a very cost-effective, resourceful, modern way of living."

"Uh huh," She said, and he was certain an eye roll followed it, "Living in there equates to living outside."

"If you define 'living outside' as immensely comfortable; then yes, it is, in fact, equal to living outside."

"Comfortable," She scoffed, "It's cramped and unsightly."

"Efficient and inviting." He countered, a triumphant smile gracing his lips.

"It's hardly conducive to inhaling and exhaling."

Derek chuckled before saying, "You know, as much as I'd like to continue listening to you demean my trailer, I have a frontal lobe tumour that's not going to excise itself. Goodnight, Addison."

"It's after four here."

"I know," He said while smiling, "But I'm assuming you're actually going to stay in bed and get some rest. So, goodnight, Addie."

"You know, that whole 'staying in bed' thing should only apply to the gravely ill."

"Addison..." He said admonishingly.

"What?" She replied innocently. "You know I'm right."

Their conversation persisted for a few more minutes: Addison, insisting that she was fine and there was really no need for him to worry; Derek, being entirely too demanding about what she should and shouldn't do; her smile, persistently spreading across her face because really, he was something else; him, countering her characteristically witty remarks; both of their laughs, permeating the line...

When the call ended, as Derek exited his office and made his way to the elevator, the thought that had been flitting across his mind for the past few weeks resurfaced: simply talking to Addison and hearing her voice was uplifting....consoling even, far more than he could ever explain, but it wasn't enough.

xxxx

The beginning of the next day is laborious for Derek: An attendings' meeting that lasted far longer than it should have, a patient from the ER with one of the nastiest subdural haematomas he had ever seen, and two patients from the previous day who seemed to conspire to develop postoperative complications that landed them back in the OR.

So by the time he scrubbed out of what he hoped would be his last surgery of the day, he had essentially forgotten that his mother was in town—that was until he encountered Mark in the attendings' locker room.

"Derek," said Mark, joining him on the bench in front of the lockers, "I would have appreciated a warning, you know."

Derek creased his eyebrows in confusion. "Warning for what?" He asked.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Shepherd." Mark stated seriously. "Your mother."

Mark went on to explain how Carolyn practically ambushed him in the hallway yesterday, and despite every admittedly pathetic excuse he came up with, she stuck to him like glue. And poor Lexie was so afraid of her he thought she would faint.

"The six shots of tequila Lexie and I had at Joe's after she finally left us alone wasn't even enough to help us recover from her interrogation." Derek knew that even given Mark's penchant for exaggeration, there was no denying that his mother was way more than a handful. Carolyn always managed to do far more than push boundaries or cross lines.

"Derek, all I'm saying is," Mark said as he neared the end of his narrative, "she should really stay out of my sex life."

Derek continued listening to Mark, all the while thinking, dreading that he was inevitably next in line to face his mother.

Once he had collected himself, he left the hospital en route to Carolyn's hotel.

Derek's mother had always played an active role in all of her children's lives. Although he and his sisters often found her incredibly overbearing and needlessly intrusive, they knew that their mother always had their best interest at heart—even if the way she went about expressing it may have indicated otherwise. So as he exited his car and made his way inside the hotel, Derek tried to keep that thought to the forefront of his mind. When he arrived, Carolyn's face lit up at the sight of him.

"Sorry I couldn't come earlier," said Derek with a lazy smile, "long day."

"It's fine," Carolyn said while ushering him into the room, "you're here now."

Derek made himself comfortable in a chair in the middle of the room as his mother filled him in on what she saw and the people she had encountered since she had arrived in Seattle. He sat a little straighter in his seat when she neared the part of her exposition that he knew would lead to him becoming the subject of conversation.

"And I also met his new girlfriend before I left," she informed, "Lexie, she seems like a nice girl...Mark said she's Meredith's sister."

"Yeah," Derek confirmed, without there really being the need for him to, "her younger sister."

"Well I like her, I think she's good for him. A little young, but from what I could tell, she seems like she can handle Mark."

It was after she made a few more remarks about Mark's new relationship that Derek's mother deemed it appropriate to inquire about his past relationship with Meredith and his current state of affairs.

"And Nancy told me that she finally gave up trying to convince you to move because you're a, and I quote, "stubborn bastard who deserves to be mauled by a bear in his sleep". I don't know what you two got into the last time she was here, but every time I mention your name, she scoffs and asks me to change the subject. You should really apologize for whatever you did because I'm tired of being in the middle of it."

"What I did?!" Derek huffed, exasperated. "You should ask her what she did. You know Nancy has a way of spinning the story to cast blame on everyone but herself".

Carolyn, having spent years mediating her children's quarrels, tried to convince Derek to be the bigger person and just apologize. Derek simply let her remarks enter one ear and leave through the other; he'd be damned if he apologized to his meddling sister.

"Anyway, you'd be happy to know that I finally got her to stop saying "he's in Seattle with his twelve-year-old" every time someone asks about you. Clearly, she knows better than anyone that you and Meredith are no longer together, she's the one who told me you were seeing someone named Rose, yet she insists on acting like a child."

"I'm not dating Rose anymore."

"I know, I was just mentioning what she told me."

As the conversation continued, much to Derek's surprise, Carolyn's words weren't laden with insensitivity or judgement. The calming, reassuring sound of her voice honestly made him a bit nervous.

"I know I don't really know what happened between you two, but I'm still disappointed I never got to meet her before you broke up. When you first told me about Meredith, you sounded so happy, and I was just glad that you had been able to find joy again after everything you've been dealing with. I was so worried about you when Nance told me what happened in New York, and you not talking to me for the first couple of months after you moved out here certainly did nothing to ease my mind."

Derek bowed his head guiltily, but in his defence he didn't speak to any of his family members when he first moved to Seattle, too caught up in trying to figure out where he stood and who he had become. "But I understand that you were dealing with a lot, and you just needed some time to figure things out. Now I'll admit, I'm still worried about you being out here by yourself, hell, I'm always gonna worry because I'm your mother. But when I saw you in your office yesterday, I knew you were okay. I saw you through the glass before I knocked, you were sitting there with your hands folded across your chest, just staring at nothing with the most vibrant smile on your face."

He certainly knew what she was talking about, in that moment he had been thinking about Addison and what witty thing she'd say when he called her. "And even now with you sitting here I can tell you're happy. I just wanna make sure you know you should do all you can to hold on to it, hold on to whatever or whoever is your source of happiness and don't take it for granted. I mean, I shouldn't even have to tell you this because you of all people know how quickly things can change when we lose sight of what's important, so consider this a reminder. I just never wanna see you in the same situation you were in a year ago."

Derek grappled with whether or not he should tell his mother that his ex-wife has been the source of his happiness lately, but there was no telling how Carolyn would react. And the way he saw it, there wasn't really anything to tell anyway...at least not yet. They had both been dancing around the idea of something more, yet still too afraid to say anything. But considering the way he's been feeling lately, he may have to put his reservations aside and just make his move.


End file.
